


Story of Three Outlaws

by JTBryant



Category: Alias Smith and Jones
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-02-22 16:48:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 18
Words: 108,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13171083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JTBryant/pseuds/JTBryant
Summary: Three reformed outlaws seeking amnesty but still wanted are caught in a snowstorm on Christmas Eve while running from a posse.  Chapter from middle of story.





	1. Christmas Capture

**Author's Note:**

> (Author's Note: This is my first offering in the ASJ series and is just a short portion of the entire story. I have added the character of Margaret Cashilyn Malone (Cashie) as a female outlaw who has been with Heyes and Curry for eight years, the past three trying to win amnesty. She and Heyes are a couple, but she is very close to the Kid as a friend.)

The three outlaws were riding with all their strength and as hard as the horses could go. But the posse kept after them. It wasn't long before there was a decided change in the air. The wind had picked up and was blowing so hard they had to cinch their hats to keep them from flying off. The temperature had dropped too, dipping way below what they had originally been riding in. Soon snowflakes began falling.

They ducked behind a grove of trees to shield themselves and the horses from the vicious wind. It also gave them a chance to look behind and carefully check the status of the posse. They were relieved to see the men had fallen back, or so it seemed. The weather had probably played a huge role in their decision not to continue chasing the outlaws.

"I think the weather got 'em," Heyes yelled over the voracity of the wind.

Cashie and the Kid nodded. They stayed behind the grove for a while longer until they felt confident no one was coming after them, and the cold made it impossible to remain.

"We gotta find shelter!" the Kid yelled.

Heyes nodded, and the three set off in the ever-increasing snowstorm to find a place to get in out of the wind and freezing temperature. Nothing was visible across the plain, so they trudged on as the snow became deeper and the wind more piercing.

Heyes kept an eye on Cashie. He knew she was tired and cold. They all were, but she was of most concern to him. He pulled his horse up beside her and reached out to grab her arm.

"You all right?" he questioned.

Her face was wind chapped, and even with the coat and gloves he could tell she was freezing. He knew they had to find a place to weather the storm, and soon.

As luck would have it, they came upon an old cabin nestled in a sea of trees. Heyes saw it first and pointed it out to his companions. They nudged their horses toward the shack. Heyes dismounted first and checked to see if anyone was around. Seeing no one, he opened the door and found the cabin empty and cold, but there was a small fireplace and a separate room. Probably a hunter's cabin used occasionally. With the fierce storm around them, it offered the perfect point of shelter and seclusion from not only the weather but prying eyes looking to bring in three outlaws on the run.

Heyes turned back to his friends and nodded. Cashie and the Kid dismounted, and they took their bedrolls and saddlebags, as well as rifles, off the horses and ran inside. The horses they let go, hoping they could find their own shelter. At the moment, the two men and one woman needed warmth and respite more than horses. If their choices were to go to jail or freeze to death, the former was preferable.

They dropped their belongings on the floor, and the Kid checked out the fireplace while Heyes helped Cashie sit down in one of two chairs the cabin had to offer. She was stiff and frozen and barely able to speak.

"I'll go find some firewood," the Kid said and strode out the door in a hurry.

Heyes checked the other room and found a couple of blankets. He pulled one around Cashie and pulled her to him for added warmth. That was all he could offer her until the Kid came back with some wood and they could build a fire.

It wasn't long until the gunman opened the door, his arms carrying a huge load of sticks, twigs and tree branches. Luckily, the storm was breaking off dead limbs all around the cabin, so firewood was plentiful for the time being. He hurried to the fireplace and set the pieces in the hearth in formation to start the fire. Then he pulled some straw and leaves from his coat pocket and strewed them across the top and in the middle. He struck a match on the stones and proceeded to set fire to the straw and leaves. Soon the wood was crackling, and a warm glow filled the cabin.

Heyes helped Cashie move closer to the fire. He handed the extra blanket to the Kid and the three of them nestled together in front of the fireplace, trying to preserve every measure of heat they could squeeze from the fire and from each other. It was hardly the first time and probably wouldn't be the last time they had survived harsh weather this way.

Soon the room began to feel toasty, though the wind was whistling through cracks in the sides of the cabin and around the door. When they could feel their feet and hands again, they would try to do something to alleviate that situation, but for now getting their bodies warmer was the most important issue.

No one said a word as they began to thaw, their bodies aching from the cold and from sheer exhaustion. They hadn't eaten since the morning, and that was another consideration they would have to address eventually. Water wasn't a problem. At least they could melt some snow to keep hydrated.

As Heyes grew warmer, he looked over at Cashie and could tell she was getting warmer too. He kissed her cheek lightly and simply asked, "Better?" She nodded. He gave her a weak smile and looked over at his partner questioningly.

The Kid nodded. "Me too, "he said. "Any idea where we are?"

Heyes thought about the day they had experienced, considering where they had started from and how hard they had ridden, the direction and a whole slew of other factors. "Maybe still Nebraska, maybe Iowa," he answered. "Not sure, but I know we weren't far from the state line when we left Martinsburg."

Curry nodded. "Yeah, I was thinking that too."

He got up and started exploring the contents of the cabin. There was only a small table, the two chairs, and an old kitchen cabinet. He opened its doors and plundered the contents until he found a bucket and a ladle. "I'm gonna go get some snow," he said and went out the door, struggling to close it against the strong wind.

Heyes looked into Cashie's eyes. She had said very little the entire day. There wasn't time or energy for anything but riding and running and surviving. It was good to finally have a respite when they could relax a bit. "You're awfully quiet," he said, brushing her hair back from her eyes. "Sure you're all right?"

She let out a deep sigh and looked at him with tears in her eyes. She nodded and then laid her head on his shoulder.

He pulled her closer and wrapped the blanket even tighter around them. "I know this isn't how we intended to spend Christmas Eve, honey. I'm sorry."

"Not your fault," she whispered. "Just the way it is."

Heyes closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He couldn't help but think of Jason Stuart and the kind of life he could have offered Cashie instead of this bleak, cold cabin in the middle of nowhere on such a special night of the year. He wondered if his lady was thinking the same thing.

The door opened, and the Kid came in with a bucket full of snow, which he sat near the fire to melt so they would have drinking water. "Still pretty rough out there," he informed his friends. "The snow is coming down hard and heavy now."

"Thank goodness we found this place before we froze to death," Heyes answered. "You think the horses'll be all right, too?"

The Kid shrugged. "Hope so," he muttered. He motioned toward Cashie. "How's our girl doin'?"

Heyes turned his eyes toward Cashie and laid his cheek against her hair. "Warmin' up like we are." His words and tone sounded positive, but he looked back at the Kid and shook his head just enough that his partner could see without Cashie knowing what he'd done.

Kid cast his eyes toward the fire. He knew as much as Heyes did that it wasn't just the cold or the hunger or the tiredness that was affecting her. They'd had plans to celebrate Christmas together with a good meal and some good fellowship.

But that sheriff in Martinsburg had put the screws to their plans. They were together, all right, just not in the way they had planned. There would be no joy or comfort or celebration this Christmas. They'd be lucky if they survived this storm and could make it to another town without starving, freezing or getting caught and put in jail. It was not the life or the holiday they wanted, but it was the one they got. Heyes and the Kid could weather it better than Cashie, and they both knew it. She was a strong woman, but all these elements put together were taking a toll on her.

"I'll see if we got some jerky left," the Kid said and got up to check their saddlebags. He found a few pieces and brought them over, handing a piece to Heyes and another to Cashie. Then he filled the ladle with the melted snow and took a sip before refilling it and handing it to Cashie. She drank some and passed it on to Heyes. He'd nearly finished his jerky, but Cashie had only taken one bite.

"You got to eat some more, sweetheart," Heyes whispered. "We need to keep our strength up until me and the Kid can get out and hunt us something better." She didn't question him, just took another bite of the jerky. "I know it's not the Christmas we had planned," he said, trying to reassure her. "But at least the posse didn't catch us, and we found a place to shelter out the storm."

She nodded and continued chewing her jerky. Neither man had anything more they could offer her or one another except to try to stay warm and wait out the weather.

Heyes and the Kid took turns bringing in firewood for the night. They stacked as much as they could inside the cabin, hoping it would be enough until daylight. Heyes rolled out his and Cashie's bedrolls in front of the fireplace, the Kid putting his close by. They would huddle there and try to get some sleep, the two men taking turns stoking the fire.

Heyes pulled Cashie close and bundled the blanket around them. She laid her head on his shoulder and was soon taken over by sleep. He was glad she could rest, even if he and the Kid had to take care of the fire and keep a lookout for intruders. They knew there was still a possibility that the posse or some of its members might still be poking around out there somewhere or, at the very least, waiting out the storm so they could continue the hunt. Twenty-five thousand dollars was a big motivator, and they knew that better than anyone.

Christmas morning came uneventfully. The snow had stopped, but there was at least a foot or more on the ground. The wind had died down too, but the sky was still clouded.

The Kid was the first to stretch and rise. He needed to get more firewood as they'd gone through the stack they'd brought in the night before. He left Heyes and Cashie asleep in front of the fire, hoping they were warm and rested. He wanted to get the fire replenished and the cabin warmer before they awoke.

Kid closed the door quietly, no longer having to slam it against the might of the wind. The cabin and everything around it was covered in the purest, softest snow he'd seen in a good while. If they weren't stranded without provisions, it would have been a beautiful spot to spend Christmas Day. He shook his head and went out into the yard looking for more firewood. He wasn't disappointed.

As he was gathering an armload of branches, the Kid heard a twig snap. He turned around quickly to check on the source of the sound. With his arms full of wood, he wasn't in any position to draw his gun, but it wouldn't have mattered anyway. There stood a man with his gun already pointed at the Kid. There was nothing he could do but hold still and hope for the best.

"Don't move," the man said tersely. "Don't matter to me if you're dead or alive, you're still worth ten thousand dollars."

The Kid didn't move a muscle. "Well, if it's all the same to you, I'd prefer alive," he stated.

"Where's Heyes and the woman?" the man asked.

"Inside the cabin. I was gettin' some firewood for the fire. It's freezin' in case you hadn't noticed."

"Sure I noticed," the man spat out the words. "The sheriff and the rest of the posse turned back when the storm hit, but I hunkered down and waited for it to break. I figured you'd be lookin' to find someplace too. Lucky you found this cabin."

Kid nodded. "Yeah, real lucky," he said, his words filled with sarcasm. "So, can I take this wood inside or are we gonna stay out here and freeze to death?"

"Well, now, that depends," the man answered. "I need that gun out of your holster." He reached and took Kid's gun and stepped back. "And I presume your friends have more weapons inside."

"You'd presume right, mister," the Kid said wryly. "But when I left they were still asleep."

"All right, then, you just turn around and walk real slow to the cabin, open the door and tell them to give up their guns or I'm gonna put a bullet in your back. You got that?"

"I got it," Kid nodded, turned and started walking slowly towards the cabin as he was told. When he reached the door, he had to shift the load of firewood to free his hand to open it. Slowly he turned the knob and pushed against the wooden door. "Heyes," he called. "Cashie?"

The sound of the Kid's voice woke Heyes and Cashie at the same time. Heyes was wondering why Kid had left the door open. Cashie lifted her head and he pulled his arm from around her and started to sit up. "Why don't you close the door…" he began and then saw his partner's eyes shift to the side to indicate the man behind him.

"We got company," Kid stated. He walked on into the room and moved aside so his friends could see the man with the gun behind him.

"Get me those guns," the man said harshly, "or this one gets a bullet in the back."

Heyes and Cashie sat up slowly. Heyes reached over to his holster beside the bedroll and pulled out his gun slowly and slid it toward the man. Then he got up, grabbed the rifles rested against the stone fireplace and laid them near the man before stepping back with his hands up. Cashie remained on the floor, partially under the blanket still.

"What about her?" the man motioned. "I'm sure she's got a gun stashed somewhere. Pull that blanket off and let me see."

Heyes reached down and pulled the blanket away and helped Cashie get to her feet. Her gun and holster were on the table. "Over there," Heyes motioned.

"Get it and put it with the others," the man ordered.

"Yes, sir," Heyes said and did as he was told. When he had put the last gun with the others, he said, "Mind telling us who you are, just for the record." He flashed an uneasy smile.

"Deputy Wentworth from Martinsburg," the man said. "I was with the posse following you three. The sheriff and rest of the men turned back when the weather hit. I waited it out, and here we are."

"Yep, here we are," Heyes repeated matter-of-factly. "Say, do you mind if we close that door and let my partner here get that fire blazin' before we all freeze to death?"

"I was gettin' to that." He motioned the gun toward Kid. "Feed that fire, will ya' and make it snappy."

The Kid knelt and added his load of branches and sticks to the coals left and stoked the fire until it was ablaze and filling the cabin with warmth once more.

"All right, now back away and put your hands up."

The Kid did as he was told.

"You do know it's Christmas Day," Heyes tried to argue with the deputy. "Are you really going to arrest us on Christmas Day? Seriously?"

The deputy laughed. "Don't matter to me if it's Christmas Day or any other day. You're all comin' with me back to the Martinsburg jail, and I'm gonna be a rich man. Now we can do this the easy way or we can do it the hard way. Neither one of you two men has to be alive, only the woman."

He pulled some pieces of rope out of his coat pocket and threw them at Heyes. "Take some of that rope and tie your partner's hands behind his back. Make it nice and tight now. No funny business."

Heyes picked up a piece of rope and went over to the Kid, who already had his hands behind his back, waiting. When he finished, he waited for the deputy's next instruction.

"Now let your whore tie you up," he said with a snide look on his face, pointing at Heyes.

"You son-of-a-bitch! Don't you dare call her that!" Heyes yelled. "You know nothing about her!" His eyes flashed with fire.

The deputy laughed out loud. "I know she's a woman runnin' around with two men and word has it she ain't picky about which one she takes her pleasure with."

That's a lie!" Kid spat at the man.

Heyes went to grab the gun and teach him a lesson. "You take that back, you piece of shit. How dare you say such things…" but the deputy fired a shot that came close to hitting Heyes. He backed up but his face was red with fury. "You do what you want to us, but you keep your damn mouth shut at Cashie and things you know nothin' about," he growled in anger.

"Like I said to your pretty little slut," he motioned to Cashie, "tie him up or else he gets a bullet in his head."

Cashie's eyes were filled with hate, and Heyes looked like he would positively kill the deputy if he could get his hands on him.

"Go ahead, honey," he muttered, turning his back to her and putting his hands together. Cashie picked up the second piece of rope and did as she was told.

"Make sure it's plenty tight," the deputy barked.

When she had finished, Cashie turned back to the deputy. "Now what?" she asked.

The man laughed. "Now I get to tie you up, sweet thang. And if you try anything, one or both of your men gets a bullet in them."

Cashie set her jaw in a defiant look and turned around, her hands behind her back just as Heyes and Curry had done.

The deputy picked up the third piece of rope and told her to back away from the two men. He didn't want to take a chance that either one of them could possibly knock the gun out of his hands.

Cashie silently complied, but Heyes said sternly, "You better not hurt her."

"Oh, and what are you goin' to do about it if I do?" the deputy smarted off.

"Kill ya," Heyes said matter-of-factly. "Maybe not today or tomorrow. But one day."

"Hmmp," was the deputy's only reply. When he had finished tying Cashie's hands, he pushed her back toward Heyes. "Now we're gonna wait just a little while until it warms up a bit outside and then I'm a'gonna take you three back to town and to jail where you belong."

"How you gonna do that?" the Kid questioned. "We let our horses go in the storm last night. Are we supposed to walk through the snow?"

"Never you mind. I found your horses and got 'em stashed not far from here. We'll ride nice and slow, should be there before the sun goes down. Boy, Sheriff Riley sure will be proud of me. Might even give me a huge raise on top of that reward money."

Neither of the outlaws had any comeback to that remark. They sat down on the floor in front of the fire as the deputy demanded and waited. In a couple of hours, the sun had come out and the deputy deemed it time to start their trek back to Martinsburg. He gathered up all the guns, saddlebags and bedrolls and then marched the three outlaws outside to a small glen where he had tied the horses. He had to help each one get up on their horse, and then tied the three horses to each other. He threw their belongings over the horses in front of the riders, not really caring if they were tied down or not. Then he told them to ride, with him bringing up the rear, pistol in hand.

It was barely above freezing outside, even though the wind had died down since yesterday. Heyes, Cashie and the Kid had their coats and gloves on, but it didn't seem to help much in the frigid Nebraska air. They were cold, hungry and getting sore and tired from the uncomfortable position their hands were in. It seemed to take forever to get to Martinsburg. At least they might be warm and get some food in jail, unless the sheriff was as cold-hearted as his deputy.

It was almost dark by the time they stopped in front of the jail. The deputy got down and opened the door, calling for the sheriff. "I got 'em," he yelled with joy and pride like he'd just brought in a bear or a mountain lion.

The sheriff came outside to see what his deputy was yelling about, and his face lit up with surprise. "Well, damned if you didn't, Wentworth."

"I rode out the storm and then found 'em holed up in a cabin this mornin'. Got the drop on the Kid and the rest was easy."

The sheriff looked at the two men and woman, each appearing cold, tired and like they'd about gone their last mile. "Well, let's get 'em inside before we all freeze to death out here."

Then he and the deputy helped the outlaws off their horses and marched them into the jail, putting all three in one cell together. "Sorry I don't have a separate cell for you, ma'am," the sheriff said, "but I figure you'd rather be with these two anyway. I'll have a screen brought in so you can have some privacy around the chamber pot."

"It's fine, thank you," Cashie said in a solemn voice. "Can you please untie these ropes now?"

"I don't see why not as long as you don't try anything."

Heyes spoke up. "We just want to get warm, Sheriff, and maybe get something to eat. You think that would be possible?"

"Sure," she sheriff replied.

Heyes turned his hands to the bars so he could get untied while the deputy still held a gun on them. Then he untied Cashie and the Kid.

When the sheriff was satisfied they were secure and as comfortable as prisoners were allowed to be, he told his deputy to run over to the restaurant across the street and pick up some supper for them all. Once he was gone, the sheriff introduced himself and asked a few questions.

"I'm Sheriff Hank Riley," he said, "and I guess you're Hannibal Heyes," pointing to Heyes, "you're Cashie Malone," pointing to her, "and you must be Kid Curry," pointing at the Kid.

"You got it all right, Sheriff," Heyes answered without much enthusiasm. "So, what now?"

"Now we wait until I send a telegram to Wyoming and they send a marshal or marshals to come take you back there. In the meantime, make yourselves comfortable. It might take a while."

"We're actually glad to be in a warm place where we can get some food and some rest, Sheriff. That might sound strange, but it's the truth. It's been a hard few days, and it being Christmas ain't helped our moods much either."

He looked at Cashie when he said that last bit. "I'm sorry, honey," he whispered, putting his arm around her. She gave him a weak smile.

"Don't guess any day would be a good day for gettin' caught, but hopefully soon you can fill your bellies with some food and I've got plenty of coffee. I'll be back in as soon as the deputy gets here with supper."

"Thanks, Sheriff," Heyes replied, trying to sound sincere.

The three outlaws sat down on the one bunk the jail cell offered. They all looked dejected and hopeless.

Even Heyes could find little to feel positive about except that there was a warm stove and food should be coming soon. He held Cashie tightly to help keep her warm and try to comfort her as best he could, but inside his spirits were about as low as they had ever been.

When the food arrived, it wasn't very warm, but it filled their stomachs more than anything else had that day. The coffee the sheriff offered wasn't bad either, and it helped warm them. The deputy stoked the stove and added more wood, so the cell was fairly cozy. He closed the door and left the three alone to eat and talk a bit.

"It's not so bad in here compared to what we've been through the past 24 hours," the Kid stated. "Like you said, Heyes, it's warm, we got food and coffee, and a roof over our heads."

Heyes let out a sigh. "Yeah, we got that, Kid. For now."

Neither of them felt good about their situation. The running, cold and lack of food and rest had left them drained. They finished their food and coffee and leaned back against the brick wall behind them and tried to get comfortable. It was going to be another long night.

After about thirty minutes, the sheriff came back in to get their trays.

"It was good, Sheriff, thank you," Heyes said as politely as he could. "One more thing," he added as the sheriff turned to leave. "Could we get our bedrolls and some blankets so the Kid and me can sleep on the floor. We want Cashie to take the bunk."

Sheriff Riley studied the three. He could see how tired and worn out they were. "Sure," he said. "Be back in a minute with them."

He was a man of his word and soon came back to give the two men their belongings and some extra blankets. "I'll be staying tonight since Wentworth was out all night lookin' for you. I'll make sure the stove stays hot. Just let me know if you need anything else."

Heyes nodded and said, "Thanks, Sheriff."

The Kid chimed in too. "Yeah, thanks."

"Night," the lawman said and then shut the door between the cell and his office.

The men rolled out their bedrolls as they had the night before, but first they made sure Cashie was comfortable on the bunk.

Heyes covered her with a blanket. "You try to get some sleep," he whispered and kissed her forehead. "I love you." She nodded and closed her eyes.

Heyes and the Kid made their beds on the floor and covered themselves with the two remaining blankets. At least they didn't have to worry about anyone sneaking up on them tonight as they had the night before. That was one good thing about being in jail. They were safe, at least for the time being. All three soon drifted off to some much-needed sleep and rest.


	2. We Need a Lawyer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After being captured and locked up in jail in Martinsburg, Nebraska, our former outlaws are mighty low until Heyes comes up with an entirely different idea to get them out of jail.

The sheriff came in a couple of times during the night to add fuel to the stove, but neither of the prisoners budged. When morning light began to stream in through the window, Sheriff Riley wondered about his prisoners. So far, they had been polite and cooperative, put up no resistance at all. This didn't seem in line with what he had read and heard about Heyes, Curry and Malone. They'd broken out of plenty of jails in the past, so he figured he'd better stay up on his toes in case they had any plans of trying to break out of his jail.

About seven o'clock his deputy came in, and the sheriff sent him over to get breakfast. He decided to wake the prisoners and let them know their first meal of the day would soon be there. He first looked in through the small window in the door. They all seemed to be content to sleep on, but he opened the door and called out. "You three sleep well?"

Heyes opened his eyes and stretched a bit, as did the Kid. They sat up and looked at one another. Heyes said, "Actually we did. Thanks for asking."

Sheriff Riley was amazed at how calm and appreciative these famous outlaws seemed. He still had his apprehensions, but so far things were going well. "Breakfast should be here soon. I thought I'd give you a heads-up. Coffee's makin' too." He added a few more pieces of wood to the stove for good measure before leaving.

Cashie was still asleep. Heyes decided to wait until the food arrived to wake her. He felt her face and hands to be sure she was warm and breathed a sigh of relief to find that she was. The two men sat on their bedrolls to keep from touching the cold floor. It wasn't ideal, but it was the best they could do under the circumstances.

Soon the deputy brought in eggs, bacon and biscuits from the restaurant. Heyes roused Cashie, who looked more refreshed than the past couple of days. He was glad she had rested well, even if it was in a jail cell.

The sheriff brought them coffee to go with their food. It was hot and not too bad. They scarfed the meals down eagerly and topped them off with the coffee. It felt good not to have to worry where their next meal would come from.

The deputy came in to take the trays and cups back. He scowled at the prisoners. Heyes and Curry said nothing but bored holes in the deputy with their eyes. Cashie refused to look at him at all.

Sheriff Riley poked his head back in once more, saying he was going home to get some shut-eye but would stop in to check on things about noon.

The thought of being left alone with the deputy didn't sit too well with Heyes. "Sheriff," he called out and got up to speak with the lawman at the bars away from his friends. "Could I have just a quick word with you before you go."

"Sure," said the sheriff, turning back.

Heyes spoke in quiet tones so Cashie couldn't hear him. "I have a concern about your deputy."

"Oh," the sheriff questioned with raised eyebrows. "What is it?"

"Well, sir, when he captured us yesterday at that cabin, well, he…he said some things to the lady here that were extremely inappropriate. I can't even repeat them, they were so vile. And I'd surely hate to have that happen again."

Heyes was using his charm and sincerity to hopefully reach out to the sheriff's sense of morality. "Now we may be outlaws, but sir, your deputy knows nothing about our private lives, and he had no right to speak to my lady the way he did. I'd appreciate it if you'd talk to him about the matter so that he don't go flying off at her again."

Sheriff Riley considered the matter, and the gravity in his eyes suggested to Heyes that he was not pleased with this news. "I'll have a word with Wentworth," the sheriff agreed, "and you let me know if he causes you any more trouble."

"I'd certainly appreciate that, sir." Heyes let out a sigh and walked back to sit down on the bunk beside Cashie.

"What was that all about?" the Kid asked.

"Nothing to worry about," Heyes replied without elaborating.

Once back in his office, Sheriff Riley did as he promised. "Wentworth, I'd like a word," he said to his deputy.

"Sure, Sheriff. What do you need?"

The sheriff let out a sigh before looking Wentworth straight in the eyes. "Mr. Heyes tells me you had some unflattering things to say about Miss Malone yesterday. Is that true?"

The deputy ducked his head to keep from looking into his boss's eyes. "Ah, Sheriff, I might have said a few things, but it's not like everyone don't know 'bout her and them two," he said in his defense.

"Well, I don't know that much about their personal lives, and I don't think you know any more than I do or anyone else does, so I'd appreciate if you'd keep your mouth shut and act professional, you got that?"

Wentworth was taken aback at the sheriff's tone, but he backed done and said, "Yes, Sheriff."

"Good. I don't want any kind of trouble from you or them until we get word from Wyoming. As long as they don't cause us any trouble, I expect you to treat them with respect."

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir."

"Now, I'm going home and get some winks, but I'll be back to check in around noon. So, keep your mouth shut and don't cause any problems until I get back, all right?

"Sure, Sheriff," the deputy said.

Sheriff Riley got up and headed to the door, but he turned back to give his deputy one more word of advice. "And I'll be sure to ask the prisoners if you've said or done anything out of line, so be sure that you don't." Then he was gone.

Deputy Wentworth went to look through the small window at the prisoners he'd been left in charge of. He clenched his fists and narrowed his eyes as he looked at the three of them. Then he poured himself another cup of coffee and sat down at the desk.

After their breakfast, the three outlaws had little to do but sit and wait things out. It seemed as good a time as any to talk about their situation.

"You workin' on a plan to get us out of here, Heyes?" the Kid questioned.

Heyes let out a sigh and said, "Nope. I got nothin'."

"Nothin'?" The Kid was incredulous. "But you always have a plan."

Cashie took Heyes' arm in her hands and squeezed it lovingly. "He's tired, Kid. He needs time to rest and recuperate, just like you and me."

Heyes patted her arm in appreciation. "It's not so much that, Cashie. I just feel like we've hit rock bottom, and I don't have the willpower to keep trying to figure more schemes and plans to get us out of here and right back where we just came from. Maybe it's time to hang it up and accept our fate. Me and the Kid, I'm not so much worried about, but the thought of you…" He looked into her now bright blue eyes. "The thought of you in prison terrifies me."

Cashie tried to smile and assure her man, but he knew she was worried too. She leaned on him and gave him a tiny kiss on the cheek.

The Kid had nothing to add, so the three of them sat, wondering and worrying about their fate.

Cashie drifted off to sleep, and the Kid covered his eyes with his hat. There was no need for talking, just trying to make the time go by until the next meal or next word of what to expect in the days to come.

Heyes was the only one who stayed awake. As low as he felt, he couldn't turn off his mind. He thought about the past three years, their promise of amnesty that had been delayed again and again, their friend Lom Trevors and how he had been there for them through it all. He also thought of the sleepless nights, riding for their lives, and the danger it put them in, especially Cashie. He was tired, so tired of being let down, disappointed and keeping that damned secret for the governors who only seemed to give them false hope. Finally, he had had enough.

"I've got an idea!" he said jubilantly, waking Cashie and Kid with his sudden cry. It took them a minute to get their bearings and clear the cobwebs from their minds.

"What's your idea?" Cashie asked.

"Yeah, tell us," the Kid chimed in.

"I think it's time we make our last stand," Heyes spoke gleefully. "Right here in Martinsburg, Nebraska. Right here in this jail."

His friends were confused. "You mean like Custer's last stand?" the Kid asked, his face looking puzzled. "That didn't turn out so well."

"I mean we change our tactics. We do the unthinkable. The thing we've been ordered not to do these three years."

Neither Cashie nor the Kid had any clue what he was talking about, so he explained. "We tell the world about our little secret. We make it known that we've gone straight now for three years, we've helped the government, helped the law and average people and never once turned back to our thieving ways even though we've been chased by posses, sheriffs and bounty hunters." He looked at his two friends and said emphatically, "We tell the truth!"

Cashie and Kid were not expecting this announcement at all. Their faces showed the shock they felt.

After taking a few moments to consider Heyes' proposal, Cashie asked," Won't that nullify our amnesty, Han?"

"Yeah, that was part of the conditions of offering it to us," the Kid added.

Heyes smiled and shook his head. "And where has that got us? Right here in this jail about to be sent back to Wyoming for trial and sentencing. From my perspective, we don't have anything to lose and maybe something to gain."

"What?" the Kid asked.

"Sympathy," Heyes explained. "Sympathy from the people of Wyoming and all the states we've been in. Hopefully sympathy from Sheriff Riley and the people of this town."

"But what good is that going to do us if the law says we have to go back to Wyoming and stand trial? How is anyone's sympathy going to keep that from happening?" Cashie asked him.

Heyes looked down at the floor and chewed on his lip, his mind thinking through the possibilities that only he could fathom. "Not sure," he replied, "but what we've been doing sure hasn't worked. I honestly believe we need to take a different approach. But there's one thing we're going to need."

"What's that?" the Kid asked.

"A lawyer," came the answer.

When the sheriff checked in at noon, he found his deputy doing some minor paperwork. "Things going well?" he asked.

"No problems, Sheriff."

"And the prisoners?"

"Not a peep out of 'em, and I ain't bothered 'em."

"Fine," Sheriff Riley said with a nod. "Now go get us and them some vittles, will ya'."

"Yes, sir," the deputy said and took off.

The sheriff studied what his deputy had been working on, checked the office and found everything in order. Then he looked through the small window at the prisoners before opening the door and going in. All three were sitting on the bunk, waiting patiently.

"Howdy, boys, ma'am," he said, tipping his hat at Cashie. "I hope you've had no more problems with my deputy since we last talked."

"None," Heyes replied for them all. "And again, we appreciate you talkin' to him."

"Well, like I told him, I expect him to be professional. He's gone to get us all some vittles. Breakfast is a long time gone for me. I 'spect ya'll feel the same."

All three outlaws nodded.

Then Heyes got up and walked over to the bars as he'd done before when he had wanted to speak privately with the sheriff. "One thing we were wondering, Sheriff. Do you have a lawyer here in Martinsburg?"

"A lawyer?" the sheriff repeated with surprise. "Now what would you be wantin' a lawyer for? You know you're wanted in Wyoming, so I got no choice but to send you back as soon as word comes."

Heyes nodded. "Yes, sir, we realize that. But there's a few things we'd like to get another opinion on before that happens. So…if you do have someone here in town, or possibly in a nearby town that we could get in touch with, well, we'd be much appreciative."

"Hmm, well...let me see." He took his hat off and scratched his head, thinking. "We don't have much call for lawyers, but come to think of it, I believe we do have this young feller who came in and set up a couple of months ago. Let's see…what is his name?" The sheriff thought a few minutes before it came to him. "Brubaker, that's his name. Don't remember his first."

Heyes smiled. "Well, sheriff, if you could kindly ask Mr. Brubaker to come pay us a visit, we'd be beholden to you."

"Don't know what good it'll do, but if that's what you want, I don't see any harm in askin' him. Once the food gets here and I've took my turn, I'll send for him."

"Thanks, Sheriff," Heyes said with a huge smile. After the sheriff left, he turned to his partner and lady with a look of triumph. "Here we go!"

It wasn't long before Deputy Wentworth brought some sandwiches from the restaurant across the street. The sheriff had made more coffee and stoked the fire in the stove once more. The weather outside was still very cold, but at least there was no more snow or biting wind. The jail cell seemed toasty compared to only a few days before when the outlaws nearly froze to death in the cold.

The sheriff collected the trays this time and asked if anyone wanted more coffee. They all declined, waiting to hear about the attorney. It didn't take long until the sheriff informed them he'd sent the deputy over to fetch Mr. Brubaker. He said he'd bring him in as soon as he arrived.

When they were alone once more, Cashie asked, "Do you really think this lawyer can help us, Han?"

Heyes shrugged. "Don't know for sure, but until we talk to him we won't know anything. I admit it's a long shot, but maybe it's the only shot we've got right now."

About an hour later, Sheriff Riley opened the door to the jail cell and brought with him a young man in a stylish eastern gray suit complete with hat and wearing gold round spectacles. "Here you are," he said and then left so they could have some privacy with their "attorney."

To the three outlaws' eyes, he didn't look old enough to even think about becoming a lawyer, much less actually being one.

The "lawyer" took off his hat and said, "I'm Thomas Brubaker, Attorney at Law. I was told you're in need of a lawyer, and frankly, I'm in need of some clients. The sheriff may have told you I'm relatively new here in town."

The three outlaws were silent at first, shocked to think their lives might be in the hands of such a young fellow as this.

Heyes finally said what they were all thinking. "How old are you, Mr. Brubaker?"

The young fellow grinned as if he were expecting the question. "I'm twenty-four, which I know is young, but I can assure you I completed all my courses in Boston ahead of schedule and am duly educated and sworn as a lawyer both in Massachusetts and this state." He stood smiling, assured his answer would satisfy his new clients.

Still they stared, unsure what to make of the "young feller." Heyes turned to Cashie. Cashie turned to the Kid, and the Kid looked to Heyes. It was as if some secret communication was going on between the three of them that didn't require words.

Heyes turned back to the young lawyer and said, "Nice to meet you, Mr. Brubaker."

The young man beamed even more before asking his first question. "Now, to whom am I speaking?"

Again, the three looked questioningly at one another. They were amazed that neither the sheriff or deputy had told this young man who they were."

"I'm Hannibal Heyes, she's Cashie Malone, and that fellow there is Jedediah Curry better known as 'Kid' Curry," Heyes explained, pointing to each person as he named them. "Have you heard of us, Mr. Brubaker?"

The young lawyer realized he was being asked more than that simple question, so he answered honestly. "No, I don't believe I've had the pleasure, Mr. Heyes."

The three outlaws burst out laughing at his answer. To think of someone considering meeting them to be a "pleasure" was hilarious to them.

Mr. Brubaker was taken aback by their response, realizing he was greatly missing some point. "Did I say something amusing, gentlemen? Ma'am?"

Once he had contained his laughter, Heyes stood up and addressed Mr. Brubaker in a pleasant tone, considering all the information he had to tell the young lawyer to bring him up to speed. "We apologize, Mr. Brubaker, but honestly, we thought the sheriff or deputy would have told you who we are and why we're here. Please allow me to enlighten you."

"Certainly," the young man replied, listening attentively.

"You see, Mr. Brubaker, we are well known, some would say infamously, here and in the surrounding states. Particularly in Wyoming, where we are all three wanted with rewards on our heads totally $25,000."

Mr. Brubaker's mouth fell open and his eyes grew wide. It took a few moments to recover before he could say a word. "Are you…are you saying you're…outlaws?"

Heyes let out a sigh. "We were, Mr. Brubaker. Well known outlaws. We've robbed trains and banks and were leaders of the Devil's Hole Gang for several years."

"Oh dear," was all the young lawyer could offer.

Heyes went on. "But we've gone straight three years now. We got tired of what we were doing and we wanted to go straight and become honest, law-abiding citizens. So…we haven't done anything illegal since then."

"I see," Mr. Brubaker answered, letting this information sink into his brain and trying to figure what meaning it held. "But you're still wanted for the indiscretions of your past, are you not?"

"Yes, sir," Heyes answered directly. "But there's more to our story."

"Please continue."

"When we decided to get out of the 'outlaw business,'" Heyes continued, "we talked to a friend of ours who had previously been on the wrong side of the law but had managed to get a deal of amnesty from the governor of Wyoming. He's now a sheriff himself, and still a good friend of ours. He talked to the governor on our behalf and managed to get us a deal similar to his."

"I see," Mr. Brubaker nodded, adding this additional information to his memory. "And what exactly are the details of this deal with the governor?"

Heyes sat back down and let out a sigh. "Well, that's the tricky part, you see. The governor wouldn't just give us the amnesty outright. He said we had to prove we deserved it and he told us to keep out of trouble for one year, do some jobs to help the government and then he'd grant us amnesty."

"But in the meantime, we would still be wanted," the Kid interjected. "And we weren't allowed to tell anybody about our deal, you see."

"Hmm," Mr. Brubaker inferred, "yet here you sit in jail. May I assume something went wrong?"

"You may indeed assume something went very wrong," Heyes answered. "We did everything we were told, didn't cross over to the wrong side of the law for that year, kept the secret to ourselves, which, may I add, was very difficult considering we were still wanted by every sheriff, posse and bounty hunter for miles around. Then when we thought we'd get the amnesty, politics got in the way and we had a new governor to deal with. New governor, new deal."

"So you had to start all over."

"Exactly," Heyes replied.

"So, then it was another year, and another governor, and here we are three years down the road and just as wanted as we were before we went straight," the Kid finished.

"Oh, my!" Mr. Brubaker said with a huge frown on his face, finally realizing what his "clients" had been through. "That is indeed a sad turn of events." He thought for a moment before asking another question. "And all this time, you have not committed any other crimes?"

"No, sir!" all three answered together.

The young lawyer issued another "Hmmm" and stood pondering all he'd learned. Eventually, he asked, "How did you manage to be here in this jail in Martinsburg?"

Again, all three outlaws let out a sigh.

Heyes, as spokesperson, continued the story. "We were identified on Christmas Eve and a posse came after us. The weather turned bad with snow and wind, and the posse turned back. Thankfully, we found shelter at an abandoned cabin and spent the night there or else we would have froze. By morning, the storm was letting up, we were still cold but had a small fire. The Kid went out to get more firewood, and that's when this deputy got the drop on him, and then us as well. It was that Deputy Wentworth. He'd stayed put in the storm and was still looking for us. So…here we are. Wonderful Christmas memories." Heyes couldn't help letting a bit of sarcasm slip out.

"I'm sorry to hear that…I think," Mr. Brubaker answered, not sure whether he should be sorry, considering the law, but still feeling compassion for what these two men and one woman had been through the past three years.

"That is certainly a compelling and interesting story, Mr. Heyes," he said, "but what do you need me for? You're wanted in Wyoming, and I assume you'll be sent back there soon. What could I possibly do to help you?"

Heyes showed just enough smile to let the young attorney know he had some definite thoughts on that matter. "Mr. Brubaker, we're tired of running. We've done our best and we've not broken the law. It hasn't been easy, as you can imagine. We've done odd jobs here and there just to get by and keep us fed and the necessities, trudged from town to town trying to keep our pasts hidden and stay out of jail. We're tired of the political games and the run-around we've been given.

"So…we want to break our deal by letting everyone know about the promise the governor, or governors have made, how we've played by their rules and gotten absolutely nothing to show for it. In simple terms, we want to fight extradition to Wyoming any way we can. And that's where you come in."

Mr. Brubaker's face showed he was considering the implications of their idea. Ultimately, he said, "Let me think about it for a bit, check some laws and regulations and see if there is any chance at all I could make a difference. Then I'll get back to you. Is that satisfactory?"

"Very much so," Heyes answered and stuck out his hand between the bars, Cashie and the Kid beaming behind him.

The young attorney shook Heyes' hand but warned, "I can't actually promise you anything at the moment, you realize."

"Of course," Heyes acknowledged.

"I'll see you when I have news," the young man said and knocked on the door for the sheriff to open. In a moment he was gone.

Sheriff Riley came in behind him with a few questions of his own. "So, you've talked to that attorney, what now?"

Heyes was still smiling as he looked at the sheriff. "Not sure. He's going to check into some things and get back with us." He paused and looked down, considering his words carefully before addressing the sheriff again. "I can't say much right now, Sheriff Riley, but depending on what Mr. Brubaker finds out, we may have a whole lot more to tell you about our situation."

"Is that so?" the sheriff said with a confused look on his face. "Well, I'll let you know if and when he comes back," and on that note, he turned and left.

"I just know things are gonna work out," Heyes said, grabbing Cashie and swinging her around.

She laughed, feeling some hope for the first time in days.

When he let her down, Heyes got a pat on the back from the Kid, who then received a hug from Cashie. They were buoyed with hope for the moment, but only time would tell if their hope was justified or in vain.

Later that evening, Mr. Thomas Brubaker surprised the three reformed outlaws with another visit. He seemed energized and confident.

"I have good news! I believe I can help you after all," he said manically.

"You do?" Heyes got up and rushed over to the bars, followed by Cashie and the Kid.

"Yes, I believe so. I looked over some of my law books and some books regarding the laws in Nebraska, laws regarding extradition, laws regarding governing of states, laws regarding rewards on outlaws, laws…."

"That's great," Heyes interrupted his seemingly endless list. "I'm sure there are lots of laws that could affect our situation. But what exactly did you find that can help us, Mr. Brubaker?"

The young man looked a bit embarrassed. "I'm sorry. I'm so enthused about this case I quite got carried away. Now, let me explain that I first need to send out some telegrams to much higher authorities than myself or the sheriff. I'll also need the name and address of your friend who obtained his own amnesty from the Governor of Wyoming and is now a sheriff."

"That would be Lom Trevors. Sheriff Lom Trevors, Porterville, Wyoming," Heyes answered.

"Wonderful," Mr. Brubaker said, writing the name down in his notebook.

"What else do you need?" Cashie asked.

"No more information right now, but I do need your permission to share the information you gave me with Sheriff Riley. Attorney/client privilege, you see. You must give me permission to talk to any pertinent parties."

The three looked at one another and all nodded anxiously.

"Of course," Heyes answered for them all.

"Once we tell the sheriff and I send out these telegrams, we'll simply have to wait for word from each party before we will know if our endeavors are successful. I am confident they will be, and we can proceed forward in the staying of your extradition to Wyoming. From there, we will follow the processes as applicable until we can secure your freedom, if not from the designated territory, then surely from the State of Nebraska."

"Say what?" the Kid asked, having trouble with the young attorney's legal jargon.

"He's sayin' he's going to keep us from being sent to Wyoming and possibly get us sanctuary in Nebraska. Isn't that right, Mr. Brubaker?" Heyes said with a grin.

"Absolutely, Mr. Heyes. You are a very astute man."

"Some call him a genius," the Kid said.

Cashie laughed at the two of them and the thought of possibly getting out of jail and living a normal life. She didn't care if it was in Nebraska or Alaska, as long as there were no bounty hunters or posses chasing them and she and Heyes could get married legally.

"Well then, I'll see to explaining our plans to Sheriff Riley. Hopefully he will be understanding and amenable to helping us, or at least not putting any roadblocks in our way."

"Thank you so much, Mr. Brubaker." Cashie flashed the young attorney her best smile. "You can't possibly know how much this means to us."

The young man smiled and dipped his hat. "Yes, ma'am," he said and turned to go.

"Wait," Heyes called after him. The attorney turned back, and Heyes lowered his voice slightly. "One more thing. We don't exactly have much means to pay for your services right now, Mr. Brubaker," he said with as humble a look as he could portray.

The young attorney blinked a time or two and then said, "Not to worry, Mr. Heyes. I believe I can represent you pro bono."

"Oh, thank you, sir," Heyes smiled joyfully. "Thank you from the bottom of our hearts."

Once the young man was out of earshot, the Kid asked, "What the hell does pro bono mean?"

"Yes," Cashie said. "Do you know, Han?"

Heyes gave them his biggest grin and said, "I'd bet every dollar I've ever made playing poker that it means 'for free.'"

Cashie's mouth fell open, as did the Kid's, before they all laughed with joy, the men throwing their hats up in the hair and Cashie jumping up and down in place, followed by hugs all around. Then Heyes started off with a verse of "Joy to the World," and Cashie and the Kid joined in.

It was a day late, but Christmas had finally arrived for them in Martinsburg.


	3. We Need a Bath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After running for their lives, getting stuck in a snowstorm and then spending several days in jail, our three outlaws are in dire need of some "personal hygiene, and their new lawyer makes sure they get it!

It wasn’t long before Sheriff Riley opened the door to the jail cell, came in and closed the door behind him. He had a confused look on his face. 

Three pairs of eyes were watching and waiting to see what he had to say. “Yes, Sheriff,” Heyes said.

“Well, now,” Riley began, “That Mr. Brubaker just told me the most fascinatin’ story I believe I’ve ever heard. He tells me the three of you have gone straight pert near three years now and you’re waitin’ to hear from the Governor of Wyoming to get amnesty.”

“That’s true, sir,” Heyes said with every ounce of integrity in his voice.

“Then why don’t I know anything about it? And why are your wanted posters still up?” the sheriff questioned.

“Because it’s supposed to be a secret,” the Kid piped up.

“That’s right,” Heyes said. “That was part of the agreement that we couldn’t tell anyone but we’d still be wanted until the governor, or shall I now say governors, make up their minds we’re worthy of amnesty.”

The sheriff thought a moment. “So, you’re telling me you three haven’t committed any robberies or other crimes in about three years, but you’re still wanted and on the run?”

“That’s exactly right again, Sheriff,” Heyes said. “Can you think of any robberies or other crimes that have been linked to any of us for that amount of time?”

The sheriff thought about that a while longer before admitting he couldn’t. The three former outlaws now awaited his reaction to the additional information he’d received.

“Well, that is very interesting, I tell ya’. I don’t think I’ve heard of such a thing, but if it is true, and I’m sure your Mr. Brubaker is workin’ to get confirmation on this matter, well that puts me in a bit of a predicament, wouldn’t you say?”

Heyes, Cashie and the Kid all looked at one another before turning their eyes back to Sheriff Riley. “We understand that, Sheriff, and we’re wondering what your thoughts and feelings on the matter might be,” Heyes spoke for the group.

“Well, boys, ma’am, it does change things in my mind. The problem is I’m expected to uphold the law, and until I see somethin’ in writin’ to say otherwise, I don’t see how my part in this whole thing has changed. I still gotta keep you locked up until I hear otherwise. I hope you understand that.”

“We certainly do, Sheriff. Wouldn’t expect anything less. We hope Mr. Brubaker can confirm everything we told him and will soon have exactly what you need and we need to keep us right here, safe in this jail cell where it’s warm and we’ve got three squares a day and nobody’s out to shoot us or do us any harm. We’re quite happy with that prospect for the time being.” Heyes was on his best behavior.

Sheriff Riley let out a little laugh. “That’s gotta be the first time I’ve had prisoners, especially of your caliber, say they’re content to sit in jail.”

His laughter lightened everyone’s mood, and the three reformed outlaws laughed too. It seemed they had swayed the sheriff to their side, for the moment at least.

“Thank you, Sheriff,” each one said to the man with the badge.

“All right, I’ll send the deputy over to get our supper before long. If you need anything, just bang on the bars and we’ll try to take care of things for you.” Then he was gone.

About an hour later, the deputy brought in supper, which consisted of beef stew and some biscuits. The sheriff brought in hot coffee and stoked the stove once more before he left for the evening, leaving Deputy Wentworth in charge. There was no more word from Mr. Brubaker, but then they didn’t expect to hear from him until the next day.

“Do you think the sheriff told the deputy?” Cashie asked. 

Heyes and the Kid both shrugged. 

“Don’t know. I just hope he treats us professionally like the sheriff told him, and he definitely better not say anything out of line to you, sweetheart,” Heyes said. 

She nodded and finished her meal.

Half an hour later, Deputy Wentworth opened the door to pick up their trays and coffee cups as usual. No one said a word at first. But as soon as the deputy had all the utensils in his hands, he stopped and looked directly at Cashie. The three of them held their breath.

The deputy tipped his hat and said, “Ma’am, I want to apologize for the things I said to you at that cabin. Sheriff Riley gave me a talkin’ to about it, and now he tells me that the three of you have gone straight. He says there’s more but he’s not ready to share it just yet. But…considerin’ everything, well, I guess I went too far in my tactics, and I’m truly sorry for what I said. I hope you’ll forgive me.”

Heyes’ mouth fell open at the deputy’s words. Cashie’s eyes grew large, and the Kid simply stared at him. You could have knocked any one of them over with a feather.

Finally, Cashie found her voice. “Thank you, Deputy. I appreciate that, and I do accept your apology.”

“Yeah, thanks, Deputy,” Heyes repeated, and the Kid nodded his agreement.

Wentworth looked relieved. “Well, that’s all I wanted to say. If any of you need anything, I’ll be just outside the door. Good night.”

He left just as quietly as he’d come in. Heyes and Cashie let out gasps and then smiled brightly.

“Well, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle,” !he Kid said and laughed out loud.

It seemed they had another convert to their side.

*******************************************************************

About mid-afternoon the following day, Mr. Brubaker stopped by the sheriff’s office to see his clients. It was clear by his attitude that he had good news.

“Mr. Heyes, Mr. Curry and Miss Malone, I have wonderful news. I have been in touch with your friend, Mr. Trevors, who says he is willing to come here to Martinsburg to speak directly with you and with Sheriff Riley to confirm your story. And the best news of all, I have a telegram here from the Nebraska Attorney General staying your extradition to Wyoming until, and I quote, ‘the matter is settled to the satisfaction of the State of Nebraska.’ 

“My friends, you are going absolutely nowhere for the time being. And as soon as I make further inquiry into the matter with the Attorney General and Governor’s Office of the Territory of Wyoming, I will then know how to further proceed regarding actions which could presumably set you free from this vile imprisonment.” The man was beside himself with confidence.

“Can you translate that, Heyes?” the Kid pleaded.

Even Heyes seemed a bit perplexed at Mr. Brubaker’s long string of legalese. His brows were knitted over his eyes trying to decipher. “I think he said the State of Nebraska is not willing to send us to Wyoming until they take the matter under consideration, and that possibly we could get our amnesty and get out of jail, but I’m not sure how.”

“Again, you are very astute, Mr. Heyes. Now, let me explain our strategy. As you must have already considered yourself before retaining me as your counsel, the plan is to exact sympathy for the horrible situation you have been placed in these past three years and, ultimately, to shame the Governor of the Wyoming territory into keeping the promise he made to you those many years ago.”

“Yeah, something like that,” Heyes agreed, then added with a bright smile. “Exactly!”

Cashie and the Kid were all smiles as well, now that they understood what their attorney meant by all his big words and long sentences.

“Now, one more thing,” the lawyer continued. “I intend to see to some of your, well, personal needs while you continue to be incarcerated. I assume it has been several days since any of you have been able to undertake personal hygiene. Is that correct?”

“Oh my, yes,” Cashie answered. “I was about to ask if we could get a bowl and pitcher of warm water to wash up a bit.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of a bath and change of clothing, actually,” the attorney said.

“A bath? I would kill for a bath!” Cashie cried with glee. 

“Me too,” the Kid added. “Well, not really kill…”

“Yes, point taken, Mr. Curry. I intend to speak with the sheriff about the possibility of each of you being escorted to the local hotel for a proper bath and a shave for you gentlemen.” 

“Cashie goes first,” Heyes said. 

“Yeah, always,” the Kid agreed.

“Of course,” Mr. Brubaker said. He then addressed Cashie specifically. “And I think we need to find a proper dress for you, Miss Malone.”

Cashie was still wearing her riding outfit from four days earlier. “I have a dress stashed in my saddlebags. It’s not in the best shape and probably needs washing,” she said.

“Yeah, we each have a change of clothes in our saddlebags,” Heyes added.

Mr. Brubaker thought for a moment, then said, “I believe, Miss Malone, we should see to the acquisition of a new dress. Appearance is a significant part of our strategy, you understand.”

Cashie was all for that. She was beaming. She hadn’t had a new dress in over a year.

“All right, my friends, I shall address these issues to Sheriff Riley and see if we can get started on our little project right away.” And with that final word, he left.

“This is too good to be true,” Cashie said, suddenly doubting her own ears. “Isn’t it?” She looked at Heyes and the Kid as if she were dreaming and wanted them to pinch her.

“I don’t know,” darlin’,” Heyes said, slipping his arm around her waist. “But if it is true, we’re going to owe Mr. Brubaker a huge debt.”

*****************************************************************

“You want to what?” Sheriff Riley shouted at the young attorney.

“I want my clients to be able to have a proper bath, shave and whatever other accouterments they might require to look their very best. Sheriff, they have not been out of that cell for days now, and I’m sure you don’t want to appear cruel or without compassion for their plight, especially with a lady being held in your jail.”

“Well, I can’t just let them go across the street on their own,” the sheriff replied.

Mr. Brubaker smiled. “Of course not, Sheriff. That’s why you and I will accompany them to be sure they remain in custody, although I’m quite sure they will give you no cause to distrust them in this matter.”

Riley frowned, but he couldn’t think of any real objections to the lawyer’s request. “All right, you and I will oversee this situation, and if there is trouble, I’ll hold you accountable and you’ll be spending time behind those bars, Mr. Brubaker.”

“Right. Now everyone is agreed. Miss Malone goes first. And Sheriff, she needs some new clothes, so we shall need to check with the mercantile before we proceed to the hotel.”

Riley shook his head. “Clothes? All right, I’ll get her just as soon as Wentworth arrives to look after the other two. Shouldn’t be long.”

About ten minutes later, the deputy arrived and the sheriff explained what was up. He opened the door to the jail cell and said, “All right, Miss Malone. I understand you’re gonna be first. Do I need to cuff you?”

“No, sir. Not at all,” Cashie assured him. 

“You go, girl,” Kid said with a smile, while Heyes gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, his face beaming.

Cashie walked out of the cell for the first time in three days. When she saw the young attorney, she couldn’t help but show her appreciation. “Thank you so much for this, Mr. Brubaker.” Then she turned to Sheriff Riley and thanked him too.

“Hold the fort,” the sheriff said to Wentworth as they left the office. He was still muttering under his breath about “baths and dresses.”

The first stop was at the mercantile store, owned and managed by Mr. Robert Groover. Brubaker immediately explained the situation. “We’re looking for a dress for Miss Malone here. Do you have any dresses that might fit her?”

Groover looked at the woman before him and then at the sheriff with a questioning look. He’d heard about the three outlaws locked up in the jail. 

“It’s all right, Mr. Groover,” the sheriff assured him. “Do you have something for the lady or not?”

It was obvious by the man’s expression that Groover didn’t care to serve this particular customer, but he did look around his merchandise. “We order most of our clothing, you understand. Sometimes there’s an item that isn’t picked up or is the wrong size, but I’m afraid I have nothing in the way of dresses right now. I do have some material if you’d like to choose something.”

The attorney let out a sigh. “I’m afraid we need something right at this moment, Mr. Groover. Do you have any other suggestions?”

“Well, you might want to check with Mrs. Obermier, the seamstress down the street. She might have some dresses on hand for similar reasons.”

“Thank you, Mr. Groover. We appreciate your assistance,” the attorney said, and then he led the way down the street. Sheriff Riley gave Groover a nod of thanks before following.

Only a few doors down was Mrs. Obermier’s Stitchery, just as they had been told. Cashie and her companions walked into the store that was arrayed with several dresses hanging on the walls in various styles and sizes. It seemed they had come to the right place.

“Hello, Mrs. Obermier,” the sheriff said, tipping his hat to the older woman. “We’re looking for a dress for this young lady here.” He motioned to Cashie. 

She smiled a weak smile at the woman, who gave a sharp eye to her, the sheriff and the young man with them.

“Yes,” Mr. Brubaker explained. “This is Miss Malone. She is in dire need of a new dress. The mercantile had nothing there, and we were referred to you. Do you think you can fit her?”

The woman paused, wondering why the sheriff was escorting this girl to her shop, but she asked no questions. “I will need to measure,” she said in a German accent and motioned for Cashie to follow her. “Come, my dear.”

Sheriff Riley laid his hand on Cashie’s arm, holding her back. “I’m not sure…” he began.

“I promise I’ll be right back,” the reformed outlaw assured him.

Their eyes met, and the sheriff seemed convinced and let go of her arm. Cashie followed Mrs. Obermier to the back of the store and behind a curtain. The older women found her tape measure and set to work. 

“Lift arms,” she instructed as she began to pull the tape around Cashie’s bust. “You in trouble?” she asked quietly.

“I suppose I am, at least for the moment,” Cashie answered, trying not to sound worried. “I really do need a new dress, and I appreciate your help.” 

Mrs. Obermier looked up and met Cashie’s eyes before continuing to measure her waist and hips. Cashie stood still and did as she was told. When the woman was done, she wrote down the numbers and thought for a moment before leading Cashie outside the curtain. She walked around the store, looking at all the dresses hanging up as well as some in a drawer of a huge cabinet. Finally, she picked one and brought it over for Cashie’s approval. The young woman smiled and nodded.

“You must try on,” the seamstress said. 

Cashie looked for approval from the sheriff before heading back behind the curtain. He nodded, and she followed Mrs. Obermier to the back once more.

It had been quite a while since Cashie had tried on another dress besides the tattered one in her saddlebags. She was glad to take off her riding pants and blouse long enough to pull the new frock over her head. With Mrs. Obermier’s help, the dress soon filled out and clung to her body as if it were made for her. 

“You like?” the seamstress asked.

The dress was made of a soft material that had blue and pink flowers as its scheme and matched Cashie’s eyes. It felt so good that she wanted to shout out her joy. “Yes, very much. Thank you.”

Then the seamstress helped her take the dress off. She looked woefully at Cashie’s old and dirty undergarments as she put her riding suit back on. “I be back with package,” she said and left Cashie alone to finish dressing.

As soon as Mrs. Obermier came out from behind the curtain without Cashie, the sheriff started back. 

“She is fine, getting dressed,” the seamstress assured him as she neatly folded the dress to wrap with some brown paper and string. But before doing so, she picked up a few other items and added them to the pile. 

Cashie soon returned in her riding clothes, and Mrs. Obermier handed her the package. She reached over and put her arms around the young woman and whispered. “I threw in new undergarments too.”

Tears filled Cashie’s eyes, and she thanked the woman profusely. Then she looked over at Mr. Brubaker.

“I shall be taking care of the bill for the dress, madam,” he explained to the seamstress.

Both Cashie and Mrs. Obermier smiled as the young lawyer paid her. 

“Thank you, Mr. Brubaker,” Cashie grinned and waved to the seamstress as they left the store, headed now for the hotel.

The young attorney told the innkeeper what they needed, and a maid soon showed them up the stairs and into a waiting area in front of a door marked “Baths – Women.” They took their seats while the water boy brought up several buckets of hot water to fill the enormous tub. 

When he was finished, Mr. Brubaker turned to Cashie and said, “I hope you enjoy your bath, Miss Malone.”

“And don’t try climbing out any windows in there,” the sheriff added more in fun than seriousness.

Cashie laughed lightly and said, “I promised I’d be good. And besides, a bath sounds better than anything else at the moment.” She took her package in with her, closed and locked the door.

Making quick haste of shedding her dirty clothes, Cashie sank into the warm soapy water with a sigh of bliss. She barely remembered the last time she had bathed, and she had felt so dirty day after day in that jail cell. The boys were getting pretty ripe, and she knew she was too.

She wondered how Mr. Brubaker was going to pay for all this luxury, first a new dress and now a bath. But right now, all she was really concerned with was the warmth of the water and getting clean. She could easily go to sleep in the warm bath, but she dared not. The last thing she wanted was for Mr. Brubaker and Sheriff Riley to break the door down thinking she had escaped.

When the water began to turn cool and Cashie was satisfied she was as clean as possible, she dried off with the towel provided and then began to unwrap the package Mrs. Obermier had given her. As well as the dress, she found a new petticoat, bloomers, stockings and even a pretty pair of shoes. She wondered how the woman could possibly know what size shoe she wore. But they fit!

As soon as she was properly dressed and had combed her hair, Cashie knocked on the door to let the men outside know she was ready. Mr. Brubaker was the one who came inside to see his client’s new attire, although the sheriff did peek around the door to make sure she was truly there.

Cashie could not hide her joy. A huge smile spread across her face. “How do I look?” she asked.

“My dear, the improvement is well beyond what I had hoped. Now you look like a proper young woman instead of an outlaw, which is exactly what we want.” 

Cashie looked at herself in the mirror once more and said, “I can’t wait for the boys to see me.”

To which Mr. Brubaker replied, “Miss Malone, you simply must refrain from speaking of Mr. Heyes and Mr. Curry as ‘the boys.’ It does not sound quite proper. Perhaps if you expressed appreciation for Mr. Heyes’ opinion alone, that would do, since he is your intended.”

“I understand,” Cashie said with some regret. Then she smiled again and said,” Thank you, Mr. Brubaker,” all the while running to wrap her arms around him in an appreciative hug.

“Young woman,” the lawyer protested, pushing her away. “You simply cannot go around putting your arms around every strange man you see if you want to be taken seriously as being on the straight and narrow and gain the respect you will need in this endeavor.”

Cashie’s eyes showed her hurt, but she knew Mr. Brubaker was right. She had to act as a respectful woman would for people to accept her as more than an outlaw. 

“Sorry,” she whispered. “I’m just so grateful for all you’re doing for us.”

“You’re very welcome,” he said and ushered her out of the room. 

The sheriff even took notice of the difference a bath and new dress had made for the reformed outlaw. “You look very nice, Miss Malone,” he said, tipping his hat.

“Thank you, Sheriff,” Cashie said with a smile. But she didn’t give him a hug. 

They three went directly from the hotel to the sheriff’s office. The sheriff unlocked the door to the cells, and Mr. Brubaker stepped in first. “Gentlemen,” he announced and then motioned for Cashie to enter. She cautiously walked in with a slight smile on her face.

When Heyes saw her in the new dress, now clean with her hair pulled up, he was overjoyed. “Darlin’ you are the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.” Cashie beamed.

“Yeah, you look real nice, Cashie, and I know you must feel better,” the Kid added.

“I do,” Cashie gushed, her smile huge and confident now. “Thank you so much, boys.” Then she thought better of herself and said, “Thank you, Hannibal. Thank you, Kid.” 

Mr. Brubaker smiled at her change of wording.

Sheriff Riley unlocked the jail cell to let the young woman back inside. Cashie immediately ran to hug Heyes’ neck, but he held up his hands and kept her at bay. 

“Uh, uh,” he said, “not until I get cleaned up too. No need messin’ up that pretty new dress of yours.”

She backed away and said, “All right, all right. But now it’s your turn.” She looked over at the Kid and added, “And yours.”

“Right you are,” Mr. Brubaker acknowledged. “Sheriff, let’s get these men out of here and get them cleaned up as well.”

“I didn’t cuff Miss Malone, but maybe I do need to cuff you fellas,” the sheriff said. 

Heyes didn’t care as long as he and the Kid got their turn. “Whatever you think is best, sheriff, though I assure you, we have no intentions of trying to escape.”

Sheriff Riley thought it over and decided he would put the cuffs on for now. “Might take ‘em off later if you boys prove to me you won’t try anything.” He cuffed Heyes and the Kid with their hands in front this time, however. They said their farewells to Cashie as they walked out.

“Enjoy!” she called after them.

As they were waiting in the sheriff’s office, Heyes asked about their clothes in the saddlebags and if they could be washed while they took their baths. To their surprise, Mr. Brubaker said he intended to buy new clothing for them as well.

“Gee, that’s awful nice of you,” the Kid said.

“All under the license of my taking your case,” the young man answered. 

Off the four men headed for the mercantile store once more. Mr. Groover looked even less pleased this time than he had before when Cashie was the customer. 

“Looking some new clothing for these fellas,” the sheriff told him. “I doubt Mrs. Obermier can find them anything,” he added with a laugh. 

Mr. Groover checked his stock for men’s wear and did seem to have more to offer this time. Heyes and Curry were given brown pants, new blue shirts, some clean underwear and socks. Again, Mr. Brubaker paid for the clothing. Heyes and Curry were amazed but certainly didn’t complain.

Then it was over to the hotel, where the attorney instructed the innkeeper to have two men’s tubs filled this time and to make available all necessities for bathing and a shave for each man. This, of course, took even longer for the now two young boys to carry hot water up the stairs and fill the tubs. The four men waited in the small area just outside the room marked “Baths – Men.” 

When all was ready, the sheriff reached to uncuff the two outlaws. “Like I told Miss Malone, don’t give me any reason to doubt your sincerity that you’ll stay in that room and not try to escape.”

“You have our word, Sheriff,” Heyes promised, and they were ushered into the bath room with the door locked behind them.

“Can you believe this?” the Kid asked, looking at the nice baths and the new clothes they’d been given.

“I see it, so it must be real,” Heyes replied before undressing and plopping into the hot tub. 

The Kid followed. Like Cashie, they were more than happy to get clean and warm their bones after the four previous days.

As they soaked and relaxed, the Kid asked, “Do you really think we’ve got a chance, Heyes?”

“I sure hope so, Kid,” his partner replied. “Of course, we’re taking a huge chance with our freedom and the amnesty, but somehow, I have the feeling that fate has brought us here for a reason.”

“Fate? What the heck has fate got to do with it?”

Heyes let out a deep sigh. “Not sure. I just feel this is where we need to be, right now at this moment in time. Like a higher power has brought us here or somethin’.”

The Kid laughed lightly. “You getting religious on me, Heyes? Never heard you talk like that before.”

Heyes nodded. “I know. I just don’t have any other explanation for how I feel or how I came up with this idea, but so far, I ain’t complainin,’ are you?”

“No, sir!” the Kid exclaimed, dunking his head under the soapy water to wash his hair.

Soon they had finished their baths and dressed in the new duds Mr. Brubaker had bought them at the mercantile. Heyes looked at himself in the mirror and missed his vest, but he felt it was too dirty to put back on. Maybe they could get their old clothes and coats cleaned while they were waiting for the telegrams and papers Mr. Brubaker had sent for.

Then the two shaved without getting a drop of blood on their new shirts. They wiped their faces, combed their hair, and were nearly ready to leave when Heyes put his old black hat back on his head. The Kid looked at him like he’d just grown a new one. 

“You are not going to put that ragged, nasty old hat back on, are you?”

Heyes bristled. “I love this hat,” he said. “What’s wrong with it?”

“You know what’s wrong with it. It’s dusty and dirty and it has two or three holes in it. You ought to chuck it and get a new one.”

“Not yet, I ain’t,” Heyes protested. 

The Kid rolled his eyes and said, “Well, you better not put it on now, after all the trouble Mr. Brubaker has gone to to get us clean and new clean clothes. Don’t think Cashie would appreciate that dirty thing on your head either.”

Heyes thought about that for a moment and left off the hat. He knocked on the door so the sheriff and Mr. Brubaker would know they were ready to go. In a few seconds, they had the key in the lock and the door opened.

“Much better!” Mr. Brubaker exclaimed.

“We thank you for your generosity, “Heyes said. “It does feel good to be clean again.”

The sheriff decided to trust the boys on the way back to the jail and left off the cuffs. They obliged by not causing a bit of trouble, ultimately going through the door to where Cashie was waiting in the cell.

“Well, what do ya’ think?” Heyes asked, holding out his arms as if modeling the new clothing.

“Yeah, Cash. Do you like the new us?”

Cashie smiled and then laughed. “You both look awesome. I love the new you,” she said looking first at Heyes and then the Kid. 

When the sheriff opened the cell door, the two men went in. This time Cashie would have her hug from Heyes, who swung her around and then kissed her quickly on the lips. The Kid watched in silence, waiting for his hug, which never came.

“All right, gentlemen, ma’am,” Mr. Brubaker began, “I’m glad to see you looking more like average citizens and less like outlaws on the run. I’ll see to having your other clothing cleaned, as well as your coats. Anything else I can help you with before I go?”

The three shook their heads, feeling that their young attorney had already done more than they ever expected. 

“Then I shall see you tomorrow, hopefully with more good news.” And with those final words, their attorney left.

Sheriff Riley looked at the three rejuvenated outlaws, shook his head and gave a slight laugh. “Supper should be here soon,” he said and shut the door behind him.

Once the sheriff and Mr. Brubaker were gone, Cashie threw her arms around the Kid and gave him the hug he’d expected but didn’t get earlier. 

“Mr. Brubaker doesn’t want me going around ‘hugging strange men,’” she laughed, “so I waited until he and the sheriff were gone.”

Heyes laughed, and the Kid asked, “Since when am I a strange man?”

“Oh, he gave me all this advice about how I should only be affectionate with ‘my intended’ and no one else, and how I needed to act like a proper, respectable woman rather than an outlaw,” she explained  
.  
“He’s right,” Heyes agreed. “If we want to be looked upon like ordinary citizens, we have to act like ordinary citizens and refrain from some of our usual norms and routines. I’ve got to give to Brubaker, he knows his stuff.”

Now that they’d shown off their new clothes and shared hugs, the three reformed outlaws sat down and waited for supper to be served. They were happy, but somewhat tired from all the afternoon’s goings-on. Heyes held Cashie’s hand and gave it a kiss, smelling the sweet lavender fragrance of the soap she’d used. 

But Cashie had something on her mind. “Han, how can Mr. Brubaker afford to do all these things for us without us paying him anything? I don’t get the impression he’s a very rich man.”

“Yeah, I’ve wondered the same,” the Kid questioned.

“I’ve been thinking about that myself,” Heyes began. “Remember the word he used when we told him we couldn’t pay him, ‘pro bono?’ Well, I think he knows that this case is going to make him very well known and, especially if he wins, he’s gonna have lots more clients wanting him to represent them simply because of the sensationalism of our case. So…in a way, he’s spendin’ money on us now to make more money in the future.”

“That does make sense,” Cashie agreed.

“Whatever his reasons, I’m just very grateful for his help…and for the new duds,” Kid said with a laugh.

Supper was soon served, and everyone was careful not to strew their soup and coffee on their new clothing. They were told the deputy would be spending the night again, but since he had apologized to Cashie, no one seemed bothered by his presence. 

Soon the men bedded down on their bedrolls while Cashie laid on the bunk. Tired as they were, though, sleep didn’t want to come readily.

Now it was Cashie’s turn to question their futures. “I wonder if we’re setting ourselves up for disappointment,” she said in a low voice.

“Why would you say that, honey?” Heyes wondered.

“I don’t know. Today was such a wonderful day. Best we’ve known in nearly a week. Mr. Brubaker seems to believe in us, and the sheriff, and possibly the deputy, too. But we have a long way to go before we’re out of this jail cell, let alone free to be ourselves and hopefully get the amnesty. I just can’t help thinking something is going to go terribly wrong.”

There was silence for a moment before the Kid said, “Tell her what you told me earlier, Heyes.”

“What?” Cashie asked.

“Kid asked the same thing, more or less, when we were gettin’ cleaned up and it was just the two of us,” Heyes said.

“Yeah, and he started talking all weird, about fate and a higher power,” the Kid explained.

“Tell me, Han,” Cashie pleaded. “What is your gut telling you?”

Heyes let out a sigh. “I just told the Kid that I thought fate had brought us to this town, maybe to do what we’re doin’ and we had to have faith that something or someone higher up than us was guiding us and would take care of us.”

“You mean God?” Cashie asked.

“See, I told him he’s startin’ to sound like a preacher, Cash.”

“No, I just feel in my gut, as you said, that we’re right where we’re supposed to be, and whatever happens is going to be good for us, at least in the long run. We can’t keep going like we have the past three years and all the years before that. 

“Me and the Kid tried to hold it all together from the time we lost our parents as kids. Then we had the gang, and then you came into our lives, Cashie. We tried to take care of one another, and for the most part we’ve done fairly well. But somehow, I feel like it stops here. We just need to say a little prayer and keep our hopes up is all.”

Cashie had to sniff away the tears that filled her eyes, and the Kid had no comeback at all. No other word was spoken out loud, but silently, three hearts said prayers for the first time in years.


	4. A Room of Her Own

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How do outlaws deal with "woman problems" while in jail?

“Oh crap!” Cashie growled from behind the privacy screen around the chamber pot. 

“Uh-oh,” Heyes whispered. 

He and the Kid looked at each other demurely. Then Heyes got up and nonchalantly walked over toward the screen, keeping his eyes averted from seeing anything behind it.

“What’s wrong, dearest?” he asked, already pretty sure he knew the answer.

“You know,” Cashie said, frustration filling her voice. “I need to get out of here.”

Heyes couldn’t stop the tiny grin that crept over his face. “I’ll see what I can do. Just hang on.”

He winked at his partner before going over and shaking the bars to the cell, calling, “Sheriff! Could you come in here for a minute?”

Sheriff Riley didn’t take long to answer Heyes’ call. “What’s the problem?” he asked once inside the room.

Heyes motioned for the sheriff to come closer and talk privately. “Miss Malone needs some help with a matter.”

“What kind of matter?” the sheriff asked.

“Private women’s matter,” Heyes said and nodded toward the screened area. 

“Oh,” the sheriff replied with a hint of knowledge in his eyes. “Well, this ain’t somethin’ we usually have to deal with, you know. What do you suggest?”

Heyes thought a minute. “Is there any way you could take her to the hotel and maybe let her take care of things and then post a guard until things are…well…better?”

“I could take her over there, sure, but I don’t have the budget to spring for a hotel room, not for any length of time,” the sheriff replied. “I suppose you might mention it to Mr. Brubaker. Maybe he could take care of that for ya.”

“Right,” Heyes said. “Well, I’d be much obliged if you would take her over there now and let her get…umm…settled.”

“Sure thing. Is she ready to go now?” he asked, peering around Heyes toward the screen.

“I’ll find out. If you would, give us just a few moments, then come back in and I’m sure she’ll be ready.”

“All right,” the sheriff said and went back to his office area.

Heyes walked over toward the screen and said, “Dear, the sheriff is willing to take you over to the hotel. Does that sound good?”

“Very,” Cashie said with a sigh of relief. “Give me just a moment.”

“Sure,” he said and walked over to the bunk bed and sat down. 

It wasn’t long before Cashie came out looking rather embarrassed but nonetheless resilient. Heyes stood up and gave her a kiss on the cheek. 

“I’m going to talk to Mr. Brubaker about letting you stay at the hotel, with a guard at the door. How does that sound?”

Cashie looked into his understanding brown eyes before laying her head on his shoulder. He put his arm around her comfortingly. “Sounds good,” she said softly. “I just hate to be a bother.”

“No bother,” he replied. “Just want you to feel better, and we’ll miss you.”

About that time the sheriff came back in, cleared his throat and said, “I’m going to take you over to the hotel, Miss Malone. Are you ready?”

“Yes, sheriff,” she answered. “And thank you.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Sheriff Riley said and opened the cell door. 

Cashie turned to wave to Heyes and the Kid, then they were out the door.

“Do ya really think Brubaker will pay for her to stay there a while?” the Kid asked.

“I hope so,” his partner replied. “I hate to be separated from her, but it’s the best thing. She’ll have a soft bed to sleep on.” He turned to smile at his partner. “And we can take turns on the bunk.”

They shared a laugh to think how Cashie’s “woman troubles” might actually help them.

Later in the day, Mr. Brubaker stopped by with his daily report. He was confused when he saw Cashie wasn’t in the cell. “Where is Miss Malone?” he asked.

“She’s at the hotel taking care of personal matters,” Heyes answered. 

The young attorney still seemed confused. 

“Woman matters,” Heyes added, finally seeming to make the lawyer understand. “By the way, we were hoping she could stay there a few days, with a guard at the door, of course."

“What did the sheriff say?” the attorney asked.

“He said he don’t have the budget for it,” the Kid answered, not wanting to be left completely out of the conversation.

“Yeah, we were hoping you might could add that to your list of expenses for our case,” Heyes said sheepishly, beginning to feel they might be overtaxing the young attorney’s kindness.

Mr. Brubaker let out a sigh but said, “Certainly. We definitely need to take good care of Miss Malone. She’s a very important part of our strategy. I’ll speak to the sheriff.”

“Thanks, Mr. Brubaker,” Heyes said. “Is there any other news?”

“Yes. That’s why I came by. I have petitioned the court to have a trial here in Martinsburg to state our case against your extradition to Wyoming. I have also asked Sheriff Trevors if he would be willing to speak on your behalf at said trial. I’m waiting to hear back the answers. As soon as I do, I’ll apprise you on the situation. Miss Malone too, if she’s still at the hotel.” 

“Sounds good,” the Kid said. Heyes nodded. 

The attorney left, and there was just the two men remaining in the jail cell. Without Cashie, it felt less warm and cozy. 

“She’ll be fine, Heyes,” the Kid assured his partner. “And a lot more comfortable than we are.”

“I know, Kid. Have to do what’s best for her, but God, I miss that woman, even if it’s just for a few days or hours. I sure hope when this is all over, we can get married and stay put in this little town. I know it’ll make her happy.”

“I hope so, too, Heyes,” the Kid said and slapped his partner on the back. 

***

Cashie was glad to have some privacy in the hotel room. She asked for a pitcher of water and some towels to be brought up. The sheriff waited until she told him she was “settled.”

He had told his deputy to find a man to keep watch over the lady outlaw’s door while she remained there. Carl Loomis showed up about an hour later, and Sheriff Riley explained the situation and deputized him on the spot before leaving. 

“Yes, sir,” Loomis said and sat down in a chair right outside Cashie’s door. 

It was nice to have some more room and the comfort of a real bed, but Cashie missed Heyes so much. Without him, she felt alone, as if a part of her were missing. She missed the Kid’s funny laugh and the way the boys were always bantering with one another. 

She had no one to talk to in this room at the hotel except for the occasional visit from the sheriff or the maid or Loomis, which were all brief and to the point. At times, her fears and misgivings would prey upon her mind. She tried to remember Heyes’ positive attitude and his words about “faith” and “prayers.” 

Mr. Brubaker had brought good news to her and, she presumed, the boys, as well. After the first of the year, if the weather was decent, they would begin a trial in the town to determine the people’s wishes regarding whether they would be sent back to Wyoming. Cashie had to admit, that Mr. Brubaker was a Godsend. 

But after about three days without seeing Hannibal or hearing his voice, Cashie was desperate to see her man. 

She wasn’t the only one feeling desperate. Heyes had reached the same point. Finally, he came right out and asked Sheriff Riley if he could possibly visit his gal over at the hotel to see how she was doing and simply have some time together. 

The sheriff had no problem with that, so he marched the reformed outlaw over, no longer requiring cuffs be applied. As the days had worn on and he’d gotten to know Heyes, Curry and Miss Malone, he’d come to realize they were serious about going straight and wanting to live normal lives. A big part of him admired their tenacity.

The sheriff knocked on Cashie’s door and said, “Miss Malone, you have a visitor.”

Cashie wasted no time opening the door to see her smiling beau, Hannibal Heyes.

“Surprise,” he said and wrapped her in a huge bear hug.

“Oh, I’ve missed you so,” she cried and buried her head into his strong shoulders. 

Sheriff Riley backed away in a bit of embarrassment and said, “I’ll give you two some time alone, but I’ll be right outside.” 

“Thanks,” Heyes muttered, lifting Cashie off the floor and carrying her in the room. The sheriff pulled the door to and smiled.

It didn’t take long for the lovers’ lips to come together in joyous reunion. “I’ve been so lonely here without you,” Cashie moaned.

“Me too, darlin,’” Hannibal replied, kissing her even more passionately. 

He pushed her down on the bed, but then whispered, “We don’t have enough time, but I had to see you, and hold you and make sure you were all right. Are you?”

“I’m fine,” she whispered back, kissing his cheek, temple, anywhere she could find quickly and quietly to show her love.

They knew they had to put the brakes on, with the sheriff outside waiting. Heyes pushed back and helped her sit up, but he couldn’t take his arms from around her. They held one another in a long embrace while saying things that needed to be said.

“I guess Mr. Brubaker has kept you informed about the trial.”

“Yes, Cashie answered, looking up into his brown eyes.

“Our dreams may be coming true in a matter of weeks, months at the most,” he said as he gazed into her eyes of blue. “I can’t wait to put all this behind us and marry you. No more runnin,’ no more hidin’ our love and holdin’ back. God, I love you, woman.”

She smiled and kissed him with all the love she felt in her heart. “How can you be so sure?” she whispered in his ear.

He pushed her back and brushed her dark hair away from her beautiful eyes, his love showing in every feature of his face. “I don’t know. I just am. The people of this town like us, and I think we can make a home here. I can’t explain it, honey. It’s one of those gut feelings is all I know.”

Cashie smiled. She knew all about his gut feelings and how they were usually right on the money. Except this time, it wasn’t money either of them cared about but simply being together for the rest of their lives.

“I love you more than I can say,” she whispered.

“Back atcha,” he whispered as he took another kiss.

Then came the knock on the door they’d been both expecting and dreading. 

“I guess I have to go,” Heyes said reluctantly, standing and giving her a hand to stand as well.

“I wish you could stay,” Cashie said mournfully. 

The door opened, and Sheriff Riley said, “Guess I’d better be takin’ you back, Heyes.”

“Ah, Sheriff, you sure know how to spoil our fun, don’t ya?” Heyes said with a huge grin.

Cashie laughed and blushed at the same time. Then she said to the sheriff, “I’ll be ready to go back to the jail myself in a couple of days.”

“No,” Heyes said to her, a frown replacing his smile. “You stay here where it’s more comfortable. Can’t she do that, Sheriff?”

“Well, I don’t rightly know. Guess that’ll be up to Mr. Brubaker, but I got no problem with it if he don’t.”

“No, it’s not fair,” Cashie said adamantly. “It’s not fair for me to stay here any longer than I have to while you and Kid stay in the jail. I won’t.”

“She can be stubborn as a mule, Sheriff,” Heyes said, his eyes fixed intently on Cashie’s. Neither one seemed about to give up their point of view.

Sheriff Riley smiled, thinking how sweet young love was, but he had a job to do, which, at the moment, meant taking Heyes back to the jail cell. “You two’ll have to work that out between you. Come on, Heyes.”

The former outlaw softened a bit and gave Cashie a sweet final peck on the lips before saying good-bye and going out the door. 

“Say hey to Kid for me,” Cashie called before Loomis closed and locked the door. She was alone once more. But not for long, she promised in her heart.

Later that day, Sheriff Riley apprised Mr. Brubaker about the day’s goings-on and Cashie’s suggestion that the two men be put up at the hotel as well. 

“Oh no,” the young lawyer said decidedly. “That won’t do at all, and not just because of the added expense.”

“Well, then she wants to come back to the jail,” the sheriff explained.

“Absolutely not!” Mr. Brubaker emphasized the word ‘not.’ “Now that we’ve got them separated, I think it best we keep them in separate quarters for propriety’s sake. We must present them in the most charitable light. Her sharing a jail cell with two men will not accomplish this, nor will accommodating two well-known outlaws in luxurious surroundings. No, she will remain in her room at the hotel, and they will remain in jail.”

The sheriff could tell the attorney had made up his mind on the matter, but he also knew what Miss Malone had said earlier. “Well, you best explain the situation to her then,” he said, deciding to stay out of the matter and let Mr. Brubaker handle the headstrong female. He had enough to contend with as it was.

After a quick consultation with Heyes and Curry, who wholeheartedly agreed with their attorney’s decision, Mr. Brubaker paid a visit to his third client at the hotel.

“Hello, Mr. Brubaker,” Cashie said as soon as the door was open. “I need to talk with you about something.”

“If it’s the matter I’ve already been apprised of by the sheriff and your two friends, the answer is ‘no,’ Miss Malone.”

“What do you mean, ‘no?’ I haven’t even asked the question.”

“I assume you are referring to your request that I retain a room for Mr. Heyes and Mr. Curry here at the hotel. I’m sorry to say I cannot accommodate them in such a manner.”

“Why not?” Cashie asked, a frown on her face. “Is it the expense?”

“No, not that exactly.”

“Well, then what, Mr. Brubaker? Please explain it to me,” she implored.

The attorney let out a sigh. “Miss Malone, I do not think it would help our case for two outlaws of their notoriety to be housed in such amenable accommodations. People would expect them to be held in jail until they are granted freedom legally, therefore that is where they will remain until that time.”

Cashie was more confused now. “But you brought me here.”

“That was under much different and sympathetic circumstances, as you well know.”

“Then I want to go back to the jail, too!” Cashie demanded.

“I was told that would be your response,” the young lawyer replied, “but the answer is also an absolute, incontrovertible 'no.'”

Cashie was seething now. This citified young man might be their lawyer, but he was about to get a dose of her rage. “Why the hell not?” she yelled at the top of her lungs. “It’s my life, my choice. Take me back to the jail!”

Mr. Brubaker had not seen this side of his client. He literally stepped back away from her. After a few moments of glaring at one another, he took a chance on explaining his decision, hoping he wouldn’t get his head taken off with her anger once more.

“Your life choices are the very reason you are in this situation,” he said with a firm voice, although inside he was admittedly a bit timid after being reminded, after all, this woman was, or had been, a notorious outlaw in her own right.

Cashie’s eyes showed the hurt she felt at his words, and her realization that they were the truth. 

Even though he knew he had had to say those words to her, the young attorney immediately regretted it. 

“I’m sorry to be so…so frank, Miss Malone, but as I told the sheriff and your two companions, a huge part of our defense is sympathy for your plight and a moral presentation. I must do what will help your cause in the long run, although it might be unpleasant in the short run. Your friends must stay in jail until they are legally liberated, while it would be more sympathetic and morally proper for you to remain here in this hotel room. I hope you can understand I’m only trying to help you to win your freedom in the long term. I mean you no disrespect or ill will.”

Cashie’s eyes filled with tears, but she held them back, turning and collecting herself as she realized Mr. Brubaker was indeed right again, as he had been about every other aspect in their case. When she felt calm enough to answer him, she turned back to face him. 

“I’m sorry I got angry, Mr. Brubaker. I do know you mean well. But it’s very lonely here in this room all by myself. There’s no one to talk to, nothing to do, and Hannibal always knows how to calm my fears and keep me from worrying. And he and the Kid always fussin’ with one another and cracking jokes makes me laugh. I miss them. It seemed so good when Han came by to visit today, and I thought…”

“That’s quite all right, Miss Malone. I do understand your feelings, and I am sorry it has to be this way until the trial is over.”

Cashie hung her head and nodded, but she wasn’t ready to back completely down yet.

“Then you have to let me visit them,” she said, lifting her head with one hopeful request. “Surely that wouldn’t be improper.”

Mr. Brubaker thought quickly and said, “No, I don’t believe it would. I will see to it that you regularly visit your companions at the jail and then return to the hotel…alone, of course.”

Cashie didn’t like the last part of his statement, but she was happy that she could at least see her beau and his partner on a regular basis. “Thank you, Mr. Brubaker,” she said warmly, though she had no intentions of hugging the young attorney as she had once before.

“I’ll keep in touch, Miss Malone,” he said and then left her alone again. 

Cashie thought about all he’d said about impropriety and acting proper and their “presentation” and wondered just what the young attorney would have to say once the trial started and what kind of game he intended to play with the jury, and with them.


	5. Let's Get Acquainted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our reformed outlaws get to meet the townspeople of Martinsburg before their trial begins.

True to his word, Mr. Brubaker allowed Cashie to visit Heyes and Curry in the jail cell the next day. After routinely offering her intended a big hug and kiss on the lips, she walked over to the Kid, said, "It's been a while, brother," and encircled him with a hug and a kiss on the cheek before giving their attorney an obstinate look. Mr. Brubaker rolled his eyes but didn't object.

"I've missed you, too, Cash," the Kid said with a smile. "It's all I can do to keep Heyes' lip off the floor since you've been gone, he's been mopin' around here so bad."

Cashie and Heyes laughed along, and even the sheriff and Mr. Brubaker couldn't help but crack a smile.

They left the three of them to visit about thirty minutes before Mr. Brubaker walked his female client back to her room. Neither of them said a word about her "indiscretion" in hugging another man besides Heyes.

By New Year's Day, the young attorney had come up with another ingenious idea that he felt would not only enhance the strategy of their case but also make the three former outlaws extremely happy.

"It's New Year's Day and everyone is in a celebratory mood. The weather is nice, just a bit of snow on the ground, and I think it's time we let the people of the town and the surrounding jurisdiction get to know the people whose fate they will be deciding," he explained to his clients during Cashie's visit to the jail.

"What do you have in mind?" Heyes asked.

"How would the three of you like to take your dinner meal over at the restaurant, in public and seated around a real table, instead of here in the jail cell or in your room, Miss Malone?"

They were completely surprised at this suggestion.

"You mean we don't have to be under arrest or cuffed or nothin' like that?" the Kid questioned.

"Of course, you'll still be under arrest, but surely no cuffs. Only the presence of the sheriff, perhaps his deputy, and myself, of course. We need to let the townspeople meet you outside of confinement to see that you are perfectly safe and responsible people who simply want to start new lives in their fair town. What better way than to share a meal with them, say hello and be, well, friendly?" Mr. Brubaker seemed to think his idea was the best thing since sliced bread.

Heyes, the Kid and Cashie all broke out in huge smiles simultaneously.

"It sounds wonderful!" Cashie exclaimed, "and a nice way to start off the new year." She gave Heyes a hug, her eyes twinkling.

"What does the sheriff think about your plan?" the Kid asked.

"I haven't asked him yet," Mr. Brubaker admitted sheepishly. "I wanted to get your reactions first. I presume I have three ayes?"

"Aye!" they all said together.

"Wish me luck, then," the young man said and went out the door to spring his latest design in client strategy on the sheriff.

But it wasn't long before both men came back in, the sheriff seeming to have no problem whatsoever with the idea.

"I don't expect after all this time you're gonna give me any problems, are you?" he asked them altogether.

"No sir," Heyes said, followed by the Kid.

"Absolutely not," Cashie replied last. "Thank you both for granting us this privilege. We won't let you down."

So over to the town restaurant they went, three reformed outlaws, one young attorney, and a sheriff who had not only come to trust but to actually like his "prisoners." There were no cuffs, no guns pointed, just a group of people going out to have the mid-day meal on New Year's Day.

They put a couple of tables together enough to seat them all. Cashie sat between Heyes and the Kid with Sheriff Riley beside Heyes and Mr. Brubaker beside Curry. The place wasn't full, but there were plenty of customers enjoying a New Year's Day meal. Heads began to turn, and the conversation grew quieter as folks realized who was seated in their midst.

Only a few people had actually seen the three former outlaws during their stay in Martinsburg. A few people at the hotel, Mrs. Obermier and Mr. Groover from the mercantile, of course. Beyond that, word had gotten around, but no one had laid eyes on them. Until now, that is.

It took a while before anyone came over to speak to the group. It was the mayor who made the first move.

"Howdy, Sheriff, he said. "Mr. Brubaker."

"Howdy, Mayor," the sheriff said in return.

"Hello," Mr. Brubaker said with a smile that belied his confidence.

"And your friends?" the mayor asked, although he already knew the answer.

"Mayor Whitley," the sheriff began, "This is Mr. Heyes, Mr. Curry, and Miss Malone." He motioned to each one as he said their names, and each one murmured, "Hello" or "Howdy" or "Pleased to meet you" as politely as they could.

The mayor managed a faux smile before saying, "A word, Sheriff?"

To which Sheriff Riley answered, "Anything you have to say to me you can say in front of them," motioning around the table.

The mayor, though taken aback, didn't mince his words. "Since when do you wine and dine prisoners in public without any form of protection for the people of our fair town, Sheriff?"

Riley evidently had thought about this moment in advance for he immediately answered, "Since they have ceased all criminal activity and been model prisoners from Day One, Mr. Mayor."

You could have heard a pin drop in the restaurant, and no one else around the table said a word or even flinched a muscle except for their eyes being fully opened in surprise.

Not knowing what to offer as a comeback to the sheriff's direct statement, the mayor hemmed and hawed, ending with, "Carry on, Sheriff." He left and the three former outlaws and their attorney were finally able to breath.

"Well done, Sheriff," Mr. Brubaker congratulated the man.

"We are very thankful for your support, Sheriff Riley," Heyes said.

The Kid and Cashie simply repeated, "Yes, yes."

Soon the restaurant went back to normal and a waitress came over to take their orders. "Happy New Year's," the young woman said with a smile. "Hey, Sheriff."

"Hey there, Becky," the sheriff returned the greeting. He then proceeded to introduce his companions to the young girl, just as he had to the mayor. But this time the reaction was completely different.

"Pleased to meet you all," she said blushing a bit. "I've never met anyone famous before."

"Well, we aren't exactly famous for good reasons," the Kid replied with a slight laugh.

"More like infamous," Heyes said.

"Thank you, Becky," Cashie answered, "Very nice to meet you too."

"So, what can I get you?" the young girl asked, her pad and pencil ready.

"Whatever today's special is," the sheriff answered. "And Mr. Brubaker will be paying for his own meal," he added. Just because it was a holiday and he was feeding the prisoners outside the jail and the hotel, he didn't see why he should pay for their attorney's meal as well.

"Right you are," the young attorney agreed.

It didn't take long before the waitress returned with big bowls of vegetable soup, bread and some coffee. It really wasn't anything different from what they'd eaten before, but the atmosphere was like night and day. Everyone was smiling and chatting about nothing in particular, their best manners on display.

Heyes reached under the table and took Cashie's hand in his and squeezed it to share the joy he felt at being able to sit around a table and share a meal with her once more.

She looked at him with gleeful eyes, thankful for such a small thing.

Even before they finished their meals, they noticed a group of people sitting around the restaurant but not eating, curiously looking at them. Once they were done and the waitress had taken up their bowls and cups, they stood up to pay the bill and leave.

But a line began to form across the room heading straight for the three former outlaws and their entourage. Both men, women and a few children came by to say hello and shake their hands. Not one of them had a bad word to say.

Sheriff Riley paid the bill while keeping an eye on his three "prisoners." He left Becky a nice tip and smiled at the young women. "Go on and get your turn," he told her, which she promptly did.

Heyes, Curry and especially Cashie were touched by the kindness shown to them by the people of Martinsburg. Only the mayor had seemed upset to meet them or see them out from behind bars. It was an experience they had never known, at least not on this level, considering they were technically "in custody" and awaiting trial. They began to see the genius of Mr. Brubaker's plan not only for that day but for the trial to come.

"Presentation," he had said so many times, and this show of three people simply appreciating a good meal as normal citizens certainly felt like a good presentation and a first step towards gaining the confidence of the townspeople.

It was a great start to a new year, a year they hoped would see the end of their days of running and hiding and the realization of their dreams for amnesty.


	6. Going to Trial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trial to stop extradition of Heyes, Curry and Malone to Wyoming begins.

After the success of the New Year’s Day outing at the Martinsburg Restaurant, Mr. Brubaker decided this should be a once a day event to let the residents of the town see that his clients were not the “horrible outlaws” they had been perpetuated to be and let them gradually meet some of the folks who would eventually wind up on the jury, if indeed that came to pass.

Not every meal occurred outside the jail and hotel, but he and the sheriff juggled it so that early risers, mid-day passers-through and evening diners could all have an opportunity to meet the three reformed outlaws to see indeed they were reformed.

Their attorney arranged for visits from the town’s physician, Dr. Martin, one of the original founders, as well as Reverend Finke from the local church. Both embraced them with good wishes and offers to help in any way they could.

Mr. Brubaker also began to ask more questions about their childhoods and the hardships they had suffered that might have directed their paths in life and the choices they’d made. He took meticulous notes concerning the death of Heyes’ and Curry’s families, their stay at the orphanage and the many means they had used to survive into adulthood and beyond. 

He also learned about Cashie’s background and the reasons she had left home and ultimately wandered into the Devil’s Hole hideout and into both men’s lives, becoming an outlaw herself. He felt certain all these factors would play well into his sympathy defense.

Additionally, he took notes concerning the many times they had helped the right side of the law by catching and turning in crooks, returning stolen money and stopping criminal acts before they were committed by other outlaws. All in all, he felt their good deeds and cooperation with the law over the past three years certainly helped to balance the scales of justice, at least in the eyes of the average citizen.

The trial was finally set for January 15. There hadn’t been any more snow, so the judge was expected to be able to travel from Lincoln to hold court. Twenty-four jurors had been called to duty. Both the District Attorney and Mr. Brubaker felt they should be able to settle on twelve men to decide to uphold the stay of extradition or send the prisoners back to Wyoming to stand trial there. Ultimately, the former outlaws’ attorney hoped to convince the townspeople to offer sanctuary to his clients. That way they could remain in the town safely until hopefully the governor of Wyoming saw fit to honor his offer of amnesty to them. He hoped the publicity of the trial would create enough pressure on the man to keep his promise.

The day before the trial was set to begin, Mr. Brubaker saw to it that his clients were clean and had their best clothes to wear. He wanted them to look their best and dress as normal citizens would.

On the day of the trial, Heyes and Curry wore their cleaned and pressed suits, and Cashie wore her new dress from Mrs. Obermier. They sat at a table with Mr. Brubaker in the small courthouse while the District Attorney, a Mr. Porter Williams, sat alone at his table. 

“Now listen,” Mr. Brubaker admonished his clients, “All you have to do is answer the questions truthfully. Don’t hold back on anything. Remember, our strategy is show what you were before you went straight and what you are today.”

“How long do you think the trial will last, Mr. Brubaker?” Cashie asked.

“If we’re lucky, only a few days,” the attorney answered.

The room was packed with many people standing. People were talking, staring, whispering until the judge came in and the bailiff ordered everyone to rise.

“Court is now in session. The Honorable Judge P.R. Rhinehart presiding. All rise.”

Everyone in the courthouse stood to their feet, then sat back down. The judge looked over his papers, eyed the D.A. with a bit of confusion, turned his attention to the three defendants and their attorney, then back to D.A. Williams.

“Mr. Williams, am I correct in reading this petition that this case revolves around a stay of extradition to Wyoming for known outlaws, Hannibal Heyes, Kid Curry and Cashie Malone?”

“Yes, your Honor,” Williams answered.

“Well, why on earth would we not be extraditing them to Wyoming? That’s where they are wanted, is it not?”

“Yes, your Honor, that’s correct. The petition is brought by the defendants and their attorney requesting that they not be returned to Wyoming.”

“Hmmm. Would both attorneys please approach the bench.”

Mr. Brubaker and D.A. Williams did as the judge requested.

“Gentlemen, will one of you please explain this case to me in a bit more detail,” the judge requested. “And the burden seems to be upon you, Mr. Brubaker, so please begin.”

“Yes, Your Honor,” the young attorney began. “Certainly, according to law, my clients should be sent back to the state in which they are wanted to stand trial. However, because of some unusual circumstances the Court and the general public are not aware of, which we will fully enlighten Your Honor and the jury, my clients feel they should be exempted from the full letter of the law.”

“Well, this is a first,” Judge Rhinehart stated. “Do you have any objections, Mr. Williams?”

“Well, Your Honor,” the D.A. answered, “I consider this foolishness, but since the Attorney General of the State of Nebraska ordered a stay of extradition until this trial is completed, I am bound by that order to see this petition through.”

“I see. Well, do you have a jury ready?”

“Yes, Your Honor,” Williams replied.

“Well, bring them in and let’s get this started,” the judge instructed.

Soon the twelve jurors entered the room and took their seats. They had been picked by Mr. Brubaker and D.A. Williams only a couple of days before based on their knowledge of the law and Mr. Brubaker’s assessment of their open-mindedness.

“Call your first witness, Mr. Williams,” the judge instructed.

“The people call for their first witness Mr. Jedediah Curry,” the D.A. said.

The Kid got up and walked to the front of the courtroom. The bailiff held a Bible in his hand and told the Kid to raise his right hand and put his left hand on the Bible, which he did.

“Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you, God?”

“I do,” the Kid answered.

“Be seated.” 

The Kid sat down, the bailiff left and D.A. Williams came forward to ask his questions.

“Please state your name for the court.”

“Jedediah Curry.”

“And do you have a nickname?”

The Kid hesitated before answering, “Yes, my partner and most people call me ‘Kid.’”

“And are you not the famed outlaw who has terrorized many a bank president and railroad manager, as well as the average citizens in those banks and aboard those trains?” 

“If you must put it that way, I guess I am.”

“So, you admit to robbing and stealing from banks and trains and ordinary people.”

The Kid took in a deep breath before answering. “Yes, I’ve helped rob banks and trains, but not ordinary people.”

“You don’t believe that in robbing payrolls and money entrusted to banks that you haven’t caused harm to average citizens?”

“I didn’t say that,” the Kid said. “I know we’ve done harm to decent people. That’s why…”

But the D.A. cut him off. “How many trains and banks have you robbed, Mr. Curry?”

The Kid thought about that a moment and answered, “I don’t rightly know.”

“Why not?” the D.A. quipped.

“Because I didn’t keep count of them. Heyes is the man who knows all the numbers. You should probably ask him.”

“I certainly will,” Williams remarked. “And do you know how long you’ve been an outlaw, robbing and stealing?”

“A right long time in different gangs. About five years with our last one, the Devil’s Hole Gang.”

“And you and your partner, Mr. Heyes, ran that specific gang, did you not?”

“Yes, sir,”

“Any idea how much money and other valuables you accumulated with just that one gang, Mr. Curry?”

“No sir. Again, Heyes is the numbers man.”

“But you did quite well at your ‘profession,’ did you not?”

“I suppose we did.”

D.A. Williams paused to check his notes and then changed his line of questioning. “Are you also known as a gunslinger, Mr. Curry?”

“I don’t really consider myself that, Mr. Williams,” the Kid replied.

“But you are known for your fast draw. Isn’t that true?”

“Yes.”

“How many men have you killed, Mr. Curry?”

“None that wasn’t in self-defense, and that is a mighty low number. I never set out to kill people, Mr. Williams.”

The D.A. gave the Kid a caustic look and then said, “No further questions at this time, Your Honor. But I do reserve the right to recall this witness at another time.”

“Mr. Brubaker, does the defense wish to question this witness.”

“Yes, Your Honor, I certainly do,” the young attorney said, rising to his feet and approaching the witness.

“Mr. Curry, you say you and your partner headed up the Devil’s Hole Gang for five years. What happened after that?”

“We got tired of the life and wanted to go straight.”

“So, you quit. Why? Surely you were getting rich enough in your business. What could possibly cause you to want to go straight?”

“Well, it wasn’t all as easy as you’d think. There were a lot of risks and dangers. And even if everything went right, you always had to worry about getting caught and going to jail or worse. We were wanted by the law, so we had sheriffs, posses, bounty hunters, you name it, after us and those rewards on our heads.”

“So, what did you propose to do, after you quit?”

“Well, we had hoped we might get an amnesty and become ordinary citizens and live ordinary lives."

“And what made you think you could do this?”

“We’ve had other friends who got out of the business, in particular a man who’s now a sheriff. So, we hoped he could get a deal for us as well.”

“Mr. Curry, would you say that your partner, Hannibal Heyes, is more or less the spokesperson for your gang and now for yourself and Miss Malone?”

“Definitely. He’s the man with the silver tongue, knows how to explain things much better than me, that’s for sure,” the Kid admitted.

“Thank you, Mr. Curry. No further questions for this witness at this time, Your Honor.”

“You may step down, Mr. Curry,” the judge instructed. “Call your next witness, Mr. Williams.”

“The prosecution calls Hannibal Heyes to the stand, Your Honor,” Williams stated.

Heyes arose and went to take his place in front of the witness stand. He too raised his right hand and put his hand on the Bible.

“Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you, God?” the bailiff asked once again.

“I do,” Heyes answered and sat down.

D.A. Williams stepped forward again. “State your full name, please.”

“Hannibal Heyes.”

“And what has been your profession, Mr. Heyes, and for how long?”

“Same as my friend said. An outlaw, bank and train robber for many years, and leader of the Devil’s Hole Gang for five years.”

“And what was your particular role in these endeavors, Mr. Heyes? Your partner stated he was a gunman. What are your specialties?”

“I planned most of the jobs, coordinated them, and I cracked most of the safes we robbed.”

“So, your specialty is cracking safes and making plans?”

“That would be right, I’d say.”

“And you were well known for your feats in cracking safes and planning these robberies, weren’t you, Mr. Heyes?”

“Yes, I guess so.”

“And did you take pride in your work?”

Heyes drew in a deep breath. He could see where Williams was headed. “At the time, I suppose I did. I had a bit of a reputation, and it felt good to be recognized for my skills, but...”

“Which proves that you are indeed proud of your past, are you not?”

Heyes hung his head, then shook it. “No, sir, I’m not. Now it is true, we weren’t as gruesome and bloodthirsty as some other gangs, and that was by my design and agreement between me and the Kid and later Cashie. We never wanted to kill anyone, and as far as I know we never did. But like Mr. Curry said, we finally realized the error of our ways and wanted to get out of the business and go straight, live normal lives. I have a lot of regret now for the things we did back in those days.”

Williams didn’t look very happy and decided to close. “No further questions, Your Honor.”

Judge Rhinehart looked at Mr. Brubaker. “Does the defense wish to question this witness?”

“Yes, Your Honor,” the attorney said, stood up and approached Heyes. 

“Mr. Heyes, your partner, Mr. Curry, told this court that you and he and Miss Malone decided you no longer wanted to be robbers and thieves, that you wanted to go straight and try to live normal lives. Can you expound on what he told us previously?”

“Certainly. We were tired of that kind of life, wanted to put it behind us and go straight, live normal lives, like you said.”

“And what plans did you make to achieve these goals?”

“First, we left Devil’s Hole. Then we contacted our friend who had already gotten amnesty and inquired if we might do the same.”

“And what is the name of your friend?”

“Lom Trevors.”

Will you please explain to the court who Mr. Trevors is and why you contacted him?”

“Well, Lom used to be an outlaw friend of ours. But he went straight and got his amnesty before we did. Eventually he became a sheriff.” Heyes smiled. “I guess you could say he went from one side of the law to the other.”

“And you wanted to seek his advice.”

“Of course.”

“So, what did Mr. Trevors tell you?”

“He said he’d have to talk with the governor about our situation.”

“And did he?”

“Yes, sir. He did.”

“And what was the answer?”

“Well, that’s the complicated part. The governor said he couldn’t just come right out and give us amnesty. He said we had to prove we deserved it.”

“And how were you supposed to do that?” Brubaker asked.

“He said we had to go straight for a year and then he’d see what he could do for us.”

“So, he couldn’t just hand out an amnesty to you without good reason.”

“Yes, sir. 

“Now, Mr. Heyes, would you please tell the court why this knowledge about your going straight hasn’t been made public.”

“I suppose making it public would be about the same as giving us the amnesty. So, the governor said we had to go straight for a year but no one could know about it. We had to stay honest even though we were still wanted.”

“And have you been living honest lives, without robbing or hurting anyone, Mr. Heyes?”

“Absolutely, sir. Although it hasn’t been easy with sheriffs and posses and bounty hunters after us.”

“How long have you been straight and honest now, Mr. Heyes?”

Hannibal let out a deep breath. “Three years,” he said. 

Gasps of surprise could be heard around the room at Heyes’ answer.

“And during that time have you done anything for the governor or anyone else that might be considered ‘good deeds’ or helpful to the law?”

“Yes, sir. Many times we’ve helped the right side of the law by catching and turning in crooks, returning stolen money and merchandise, and stopping other outlaws from committing criminal acts. We even exposed a crooked sheriff once.”

“Thank you, Mr. Heyes. That is all for now.” 

Heyes got up and went back to sit beside Cashie and the Kid. 

“Call your next witness, Mr. Williams,” the judge instructed.

“I call Miss Cashie Malone to the stand,” Williams said.

Cashie got up and went to the witness stand, just as Heyes and the Kid had done before her. The bailiff bought over the Bible and she put her left hand on it and raised her right.

“Do you swear to the tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you, God?” the bailiff asked again.

“I do,” Cashie replied and then sat down.

“Please state your full name,” Williams instructed once more.

“Margaret Cashilyn Malone.”

“Cashilyn is a very pretty but unusual name, wouldn’t you say?”

“I guess so. Most people call me Cashie.”

“Did your mother name you that, Miss Malone?”

“Yes, she did.”

“And did your mother bring you up to steal, Miss Malone?”

Cashie was angered by his question. “No,” she said tersely.

“So, you do know the activities you participated in while a member of the Devil’s Hole Gang were wrong.”

“Yes, and I quite regret them now.”

“How did a nice girl who wasn’t brought up to steal get involved with two thieves?” Williams asked.

“By accident,” Cashie stated.

“Would you be more specific.”

“I was out riding alone one day and I got lost. Quite by accident it seems I had ridden into the entrance to the Devil’s Hole hideout.”

“Well, why didn’t you simply ride back out?”

“I couldn’t,” Cashie said, fidgeting.

“Why not?” Williams asked.

Cashie hesitated. “Because I was shot.” 

Several gasps could be heard throughout the courtroom once more. The judge banged his gavel. “Order in the court!” he bellowed.

Williams had a smirk on his face as he said, “Well, now, this is getting interesting. Who shot you, Miss Malone? Hannibal Heyes or more likely Kid Curry?”

“Neither,” Cashie said defiantly. “It was one of their men, and Hannibal kicked him out when he found out what happened.”

“Did he now? What happened after that, Miss Malone?”

“They took care of me until I was well.”

“Why didn’t they let you leave afterwards?”

“They did, and I was going to, but…”

“But what?” Williams queried.

“But I couldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because by then, I’d fallen in love.” Cashie said in a soft tone.

“Fallen in love…with which man, Miss Malone?” Williams asked sarcastically.

“Objection, Your Honor. Mr. Williams is badgering the witness,” Mr. Brubaker stated.

“Overruled. I’d like to hear the answer myself. Proceed, Mr. Williams.”

“So, which man did you fall in love with, Miss Malone?”

“I…honestly had deep feelings for both of them,” Cashie admitted, “but ultimately it was Hannibal that won my heart.”

Again, there were gasps and some chattering throughout the courtroom. The judge banged his gavel for order once more.

“So, it seems you had some trouble figuring out which man you cared the most for. Is that a correct assessment, Miss Malone?”

Cashie looked down at first, then held her head high and said, “It did take a while. They’re both good men in their own ways.”

“Good?” Williams shouted. “They were outlaws, thieves and con men, who you let corrupt your own soul and bring you into their gang until you gained a reputation of your own, isn’t that true, Miss Malone?”

Again, the court burst into confusion. “Order in the court!” Judge Rhinehart yelled, slamming his gavel several times. “I will have order.” Then he turned to the witness. 

“What do you have to say to this assertion, Miss Malone?”

Cashie tried to keep the tears from her eyes. She bit her lip, and held her head up. “They never wanted me to do anything outside the law, Judge. They tried to keep me away from all that. It was my decision to take part in some robberies, not theirs.”

Williams smiled. “No further questions,” he said and sat down.

“Mr. Brubaker?” the judge called the defense attorney.

“Yes, Your Honor,” the young attorney said and approached Cashie. 

“Miss Malone, you said it was your decision to take part in some of the robberies. What skills did you have to contribute to these criminal endeavors?”

“Not many when I first arrived at the Hole. I could use a rifle well. I learned that growing up on a farm right here in Nebraska.”

“What part of Nebraska?”

“Utica, a little town southwest of here.”

“So, you’re back in your home state now, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you have parents still living in that town?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen or heard from them in about six years.”

“Why not?”

Cashie again tried to keep her tears in check, but it was harder this time. “Because after I ran away from home and wound up with Hannibal and the Kid, they disowned me.”

More gasps. “And why did you run away from home, Miss Malone?”

“Because my father, in particular, wanted me to marry a much older man when I turned eighteen. He actually insisted. I couldn’t do it, so I took my horse and ran as far away as I could get.”

“So, you were a woman running away from an arranged marriage you could not stomach, and you wound up in another state and in an area you weren’t familiar with. Is that how you happened to be at the Devil’s Hole Hideout in Wyoming?”

“Yes, exactly!”

“While you were staying there, what did you learn to do?”

“I learned to shoot a pistol from Kid, and I learned to crack safes and pick locks from Hannibal. But like I said earlier, they didn’t want me to help with their jobs. I made that decision myself.”

“So, you joined them. Why?”

“Because I wanted to be a part of it all. I wanted to contribute in some way more than just being a cook or mending clothes, all the things women are taught to do. I did do my share of that, but I wanted to be different.”

“Thank you for your honesty, Miss Malone,” Mr. Brubaker said sympathetically. “Now I have one very important question to ask you about your life as an outlaw. Did it make you happy? Think about it before you answer.”

Cashie looked down, thinking about her life at Devil’s Hole, the good moments and bad moments and the toll it took on her life. Finally, she answered a definite, “No.”

“So, helping the man you loved and his partner bring in money, gold and whatever riches you might find did not make you happy. Could you expound on that a bit more?”

“Of course, there were moments. It felt good to participate. And at first it felt good to be known for doing things besides what women were expected to do. But in the long run, it only brought all of us pain and fear and heartbreak.”

Why is that?” Mr. Brubaker asked.

“Because it made us wanted by the law. We often had to run for our lives or to not end up in jail. Hannibal and the Kid had warrants taken out on them for $10,000 each dead or alive, and I had $5,000 on me caught alive. We couldn’t settle down and make a life together, me and Hannibal. We wanted to be married and have children someday, but we couldn’t.”

“So, would you say the glory was short-lived, but the effects on your personal lives were destructive, isolating and restrictive?”

Cashie nodded. “Very much so.”

“And so you, along with Mr. Heyes and Mr. Curry, sought to change your ways and seek out amnesty so that you might live normal, productive lives, is that correct?”

“Yes,” Cashie answered.

“And what do you want most in your life now, Miss Malone?”

“I want to stop running, marry the man I love, and have children with him,” she said and couldn’t stop that one tear from falling down her cheek.

“That will be all, Miss Malone. Thank you,” Mr. Brubaker said.

Cashie stepped down and walked to the table with Mr. Brubaker. Heyes was waiting to put his arms around her and calm her down.

It now being after noon, Judge Rhinehart called for a break until 2:00 p.m. The room began to bustle with folks getting up to leave and a hum of chatter as they did so. 

Mr. Brubaker took this opportunity to speak to his clients on how he felt the morning had gone. “Friends, it looks as though our case is progressing well. Of course, there are several more points we will be bringing out once the prosecution is finished.”

“You seem to be doing a good job for us, Mr. Brubaker. Thank you so much,” Heyes said, though he still looked a bit worried.

“You really think we have a chance?” Cashie asked.

“My dear, if I didn’t think you had a chance, I never would have taken your case. Surely you realize that by now.”

Just then Sheriff Riley came over. “I’m afraid the judge wants me to take all three of you back to the jail until we reconvene. I hope that won’t be a problem.”

“No problem, Sheriff. Can’t have us outlaws mingling with the jurors and the public trying to sway their verdict, can we?” Heyes said a bit tongue-in-cheek.

The sheriff laughed. “No, guess not. Come along and we’ll get you some dinner. I’m sure all this talkin’ has got you hungry as a mule. Has me, anyhow.”

They stood and followed the sheriff toward the jail, Mr. Brubaker tagging along too. There were no cuffs or pistols. The sheriff had long ago realized the sincerity of his prisoners and that they intended to see this thing through without upset. 

After they’d had their dinner and rested a bit, it was almost time to return to the courthouse. Again, the sheriff led them back to their seats awaiting the return of Judge Rhinehart. The courthouse was full and no one had to wait very long.

The bailiff announced the judge’s arrival and everyone stood, as before. Then they were seated. The jury was brought in, and after all preliminary rituals and statements, questioning resumed, first with D.A. Williams again.

“I call Mr. Hannibal Heyes to the stand, Your Honor.” Heyes got up and sat back down in the witness chair. 

“I remind you that you are still under oath, Mr. Heyes,” the judge stated.

“Yes, sir, Your Honor.”

Mr. Williams then picked up a flyer off his table and brought it to Heyes to look at. “Will you please read this, Mr. Heyes.”

The ex-outlaw hesitated, and Williams said, “Go ahead. Read it.”

Heyes let out a sigh. “Wanted, dead or alive, by Midwest Railroad, Hannibal Heyes, Age 29. Tall, dark hair, brown eyes. 165 lbs. $10,000 reward. State of Wyoming.”

“Thank you, Mr. Heyes. Now, would you please read the second line again.”

Heyes hesitated once more before answering. “Dead or alive.”

Mr. Williams then took the flyer away and placed it on the judge’s desk. “Thank you again. Your Honor, I would like to point out that the term ‘dead or alive’ is used only on the posters of those outlaws who are considered most dangerous and menacing to the public. I offer this as The People’s Exhibit A.”

He turned back to Heyes. “Now, Mr. Heyes, your partner, Mr. Curry, said he had no idea how many robberies you and your gang had pulled. He said you are the numbers man. Can you tell me that number?”<

Heyes thought a few moments then replied, “I’d say about 125."

“And do you recall what your biggest heist was in terms of money?”

“Around $200,000,” Heyes stated.

“And overall, what would be the sum total of all the robberies you carried out? Do you even have an idea of that figure?”

“Yes, sir, I do. Somewhere a tad over two million dollars.”

“Two million dollars!” Williams shouted. “Two million dollars taken from hard-working, average citizens such as these right here in this courtroom! Tell me, did you ever stop to think about them?”

“Objection!” Mr. Brubaker shouted, standing now. “Your Honor, Mr. Williams is putting on a show for the court.”

“Objection sustained,” Judge Rhinehart ruled. “Mr. Williams, please keep the theatrics to a minimum.”

“Yes, Your Honor. No further questions at this time.” Williams sat down with a smug look on his face.

“Your witness, Mr. Brubaker,” the judge said.

“Thank you, Your Honor,” the young attorney arose and approached his client.

“Mr. Heyes, you just read the wanted poster on yourself at Mr. Williams’ direction. Do you have any amendments to make to that poster and comments regarding it?”

Heyes thought a moment before adding, “We’re older now, by six or seven years, and we’ve learned a lot. Enough, in fact, that we no longer want to be robbers and outlaws. We simply want to be normal, law abiding citizens, as I said earlier.”

“And you and Miss Malone wish to be married and start a family, is that right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now, Mr. Heyes, I’m going to ask you a very personal question. I’m not asking to pry into your business, but I think it is a reasonable one considering the circumstances. How is it possible that you and Miss Malone have not already started a family?”

Heyes blinked a few times, caught off guard. He looked at Cashie, whose face disclosed embarrassment and terror. He licked his lips and, with a frown, looked back at his attorney. “Just what exactly are you asking me, Mr. Brubaker?”

“Mr. Heyes, you and Miss Malone have been a couple for many years, isn’t that right?”

“Yes, we have.”

“How many years exactly?”

“Six. Three before we went straight, and three since.”

“And so, you lived for three years at the Devil’s Hole Hideout, and for the last three years you’ve basically been on the run, the three of you including Mr. Curry, moving from place to place, always looking over your shoulder for sheriffs, posses, bounty hunters and anyone else who might know you and want to turn you in for the reward money.”

“That’s right,” Heyes replied.

“And in all that time, being that close with this woman, can you tell me has your relationship ever crossed the line from romantic to sexual?”

Heyes couldn’t believe his ears. Why the hell was Mr. Brubaker asking this question, especially now? He looked at Cashie, who had put her head down in embarrassment. The Kid had his arm laid lightly on her back to comfort her, and the entire court was sitting holding its breath.

“Well, Mr. Heyes, we’re waiting,” his own damn attorney said.

“Mr. Brubaker, I think you should know from your dealings with us that I love that woman with all my heart. I would do anything for her. But one thing I would never do is put her in danger, if I could help it. Now I know this lifestyle we’ve had was not what I wanted for her. It’s not what either of us want anymore. 

“We want to be married and start a family, but that has not been possible given the circumstances we’ve been living under. So, I told Cashie we couldn’t take a chance at her gettin’ pregnant, and I wouldn’t have any part in bringing a child into this world who might grow up without a father or maybe even a mother, like I did. So, if you’re asking if I’ve ever had sexual relations with her, then the answer is an absolute no!”

The courtroom went wild with gasps, chatter, and even a round of applause. The judge banged his gavel several times trying to maintain order, but the questioning and the answer were so radical that it took quite some time to quiet everyone down.

“The court will come to order,” Judge Rhinehart said with one final bang. He appeared as shocked as anyone at Mr. Brubaker’s line of questioning.

“Mr. Brubaker, is there more?” he inquired, looking himself somewhat abashed.

“Only a few more questions, Your Honor, and I promise they will be of a different subject matter.

“Thank God,” the judge muttered under his breath.

Heyes’ face was still red, and he was trying really hard to maintain belief in his attorney, but he was not happy at all that he and his lady had been humiliated without even a warning from their own attorney.

“Mr. Heyes, you just said that you didn’t want to bring a child into the world to grow up without a mother and a father like you did. Would you please explain to the court what you meant by that?”

Heyes knew this question might be brought up, but he still didn’t much want to answer.

“Please, Mr. Heyes, tell us about your own childhood. Where were you born and where have you lived?”

“I was born in Missouri, but my family soon moved to Kansas to run a farm along with my uncle.”

And who was your uncle?”

“Thaddeus Curry, the Kid’s pa.”

“So, you and Mr. Curry are related?”

“Yes, we’re cousins. He’s only two years younger than me.”

“So, you and Mr. Curry and your fathers were farmers in Kansas. Now, can you tell the court what happened to your family in Kansas?”

Heyes looked down at his hands fidgeting in his lap. He looked over at the Kid and Cashie who were both holding their breath and showing him support for what they knew was going to be a difficult moment.

Heyes swallowed hard before he began his story. “My family and the Kid’s family…were all killed when I was nine and my cousin was seven. We saw it happen, but we couldn’t do anything about it.”

Another round of gasps, “oh mys” and even some crying erupted around the room. Heyes had tears in his eyes, as did Cashie and the Kid. Soon you could hear a pin drop.

“I’m very sorry for your and your cousin’s loss, Mr. Heyes,” their attorney said solemnly. “That must have been the most terrible day of your lives.”

Heyes could only nod as a tear slipped from his eye. He wiped it away and tried to compose himself.

“What happened to you and your cousin after your families were killed?”

“Nothin’ good,” Heyes replied. “We stayed with a neighbor for a little while. Then we got sent to an orphanage for wayward kids. It was awful there.”

“How was it awful?” Mr. Brubaker asked.

“We were worked hard, fed little, beaten and learned to survive by stealing food and anything else we needed just to get by. Eventually we ran away.”

And what ages were you when you ran away and what did you do then?”

“I was 15, and the Kid was 13. We did odd jobs if anyone would let us, and sometimes we stole food and money to get food. Then eventually we started joining gangs because at least they would feed us.”

“So, you did whatever you had to do to survive as adolescent boys, is that right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“So, would you say there is a definite correlation between the horrible killing of your families and the lives you eventually grew up to lead as members of a gang and robbing trains and banks?”

“Well, I’m not trying to make excuses, but I suppose there is. We didn’t have a pa or a ma to teach us any better, to feed us, school us. All we knew of that was what little we were blessed with before they were murdered. And, those are…those are real painful memories for both of us.”

“I’m sure they are, Mr. Heyes, and I’m sorry I had to put you through that, but I felt like the court needed to understand where you came from and the trauma you overcame to understand where you turned up and where you are now.”

Mr. Brubaker looked at the judge and said, “No more questions for Mr. Heyes, Your Honor.”

Heyes got slowly out of the witness chair and walked to the table to join his friends. He seemed in a daze. He was greeted with a hug from Cashie and a hand on his shoulder from the Kid. They didn’t care that the entire courtroom was watching.

By this time, it was getting late, so Judge Rhinehart said court was adjourned until nine o’clock the next morning.

The three former outlaws left the courtroom sniffing and wiping their eyes. Even Sheriff Riley had to wipe his on the way out. Mr. Brubaker followed them to the jail and asked the sheriff for privacy with his clients. Each of them looked like they had had every ounce of energy drained from them.

“I’m sorry I had to bring up some painful memories and some personal questions,” Mr. Brubaker said regretfully, “but I needed the jury and the court to hear about the trauma you suffered, Mr. Heyes and Mr. Curry. The sympathy was so thick in that courtroom. And that’s what we wanted and needed to win your case.”

Cashie and Heyes look at one another, thinking about the embarrassment their own attorney had put them through. 

“Couldn’t you at least have given us some warning you were going to ask such personal questions, Mr. Brubaker?” Heyes demanded.

“I was simply mortified,” Cashie added, tears in her eyes.

“But catching you off guard like that gave your answers more validity. You didn’t have time to make up some half-baked story. It rang true.” Their attorney lifted an eyebrow and his eyes were questioning. “It is true, isn’t it?”

Heyes looked at his lady and then back at his attorney. “Can I have a private word, Mr. Brubaker?”

“Of course.” The two men moved over to the very furthest corner of the cell and put their heads together, all the while being watched by Cashie and the Kid. 

“You asked if we’d had sexual relations,” Heyes whispered to his attorney. “I suppose the truth depends on just what you consider ‘sexual relations’ to be.”

“I consider it to be sexual intercourse,” the young attorney whispered back.

“Well, then, what I said was the truth,” Heyes whispered as low as possible. “We ain’t done that.”

“I see,” Brubaker whispered back, looking a bit embarrassed himself. He took his handkerchief and wiped his forehead in relief. “Very good then. I was taking a bit of a chance, but as I’ve come to know you, I thought I rightly knew the answer and that it would help our case.”

Heyes nodded and went back over to his lady and his partner. 

Cashie seemed satisfied enough, but the Kid definitely had no clue. 

“Is someone gonna tell me what’s going on?” he asked.

Cashie and Hannibal answered together, “No!”


	7. A Verdict and a Proposal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The verdict is in for the trial of Heyes, Curry and Malone.

The next day, the trial resumed promptly at nine o'clock. Judge Rhinehart called the court to order, and the jury was brought in.

"Mr. Williams, do you have another witness to call?" the judge asked.

"Yes, Your Honor. I'd like to call Mr. Jedediah Curry back to the stand."

The Kid got up and walked to the witness chair and sat down.

"I remind you that you are still under oath, Mr. Curry," the judge said.

"Yes, sir."

"Now, Mr. Curry," Williams began. "We've talked about the lifestyle of being an outlaw and your fast draw. You say you've never killed a man except in self-defense. And I have here a wanted poster similar to Mr. Heyes', also for $10,000. Would you like to read it to the court?"

"No sir, I've seen it and it says basically the same thing as my partner's except for the age and description."

"That's fine. Your Honor, I submit this wanted poster for Mr. Curry as the People's Exhibit B." He handed the judge the poster.

"Now, Mr. Curry, I'd like to ask you a few questions about your relationship with Miss Malone. She told us that when she first came to Devil's Hole, she developed feelings for both you and Mr. Heyes. Could you explain this in more detail, please."

The Kid hesitated, not wanted to say the wrong thing. "Well, I was the first person she saw when she woke up after being shot. I was sittin' by her bed watchin' over her."

"How did she react to finding out what had happened to her and where she was?"

"Oh, she was upset, of course. Can't say I'd blame her. She didn't know me, didn't know where she was or what had happened to her. So, I explained everything to her, assured her no one was going to hurt her, and then…she sort of came to trust me."

"So, she met you first, is that right?" Williams asked.

"Yes. Heyes is the one who brought her in and saw to getting her patched up and that she had her own room, own bed and everything. He watched over her too, but it just so happened I was the one there when she woke up."

"So, she came to trust you first. And did this trust grow into something more? Friendship, shall we say?"

"Definitely. We became very good friends, still are."

"What about Mr. Heyes? How did she first react to him?"

Again, the Kid hesitated, looking at his friends before going on. Heyes nodded just enough to let his partner know it was all right to tell the story.

"Actually, she was sort of afraid of him at first. Never could figure out why. Maybe she was more familiar with his name."

"So, would you say that she was more romantically involved with you at first than she was Mr. Heyes?"

"Yes, I guess so."

"And how did you feel about her?"

The Kid let out a huge sigh, figuring where Williams was going with this. "I was crazy in love with her too."

"Then how did she wind up being Mr. Heyes' girl instead of yours?"

"Well, now that's a long story that's a mite personal between the three of us."

"So, you refuse to answer the question?"

"Objection!" Mr. Brubaker shouted. "Mr. Williams is trying to exploit the personal relationships of the defendants, which has no bearing on this case. I don't see the relevance of this line of questioning, Your Honor. Miss Malone already stated she had a romantic relationship with both Mr. Heyes and Mr. Curry, but ultimately she chose Mr. Heyes. Why does Mr. Williams need to know every minor detail?"

"I'd like to know that myself," the judge said. "Do you intend to show relevance somewhere down the road, Mr. Williams?"

"Yes, Your Honor, I would like to point out that this case is based entirely upon one's opinion of the defendants. I'm only trying to delve a bit deeper into the personal relationships between Miss Malone, Mr. Heyes and Mr. Curry."

"All right, I'll allow it as long as you get to your point quickly, Mr. Williams."

"Thank you, Your Honor. Mr. Curry, will you please answer the question?"

"Ah…I'm not quite sure…well, could you repeat the question?"

"I asked how did Miss Malone wind up being with Mr. Heyes instead of your girl considering that you and she first had a romantic relationship."

The Kid let out another long sigh. "Well, Heyes and me are like brothers, and I knew he had feelings for Cash…I mean, Miss Malone. So, we had a discussion about the situation, and we decided that we should both get to know her and then let her make up her mind which one of us she liked better."

"So, are you telling me that both of you were courting her at the same time?"

"Something like that. I mean, it wasn't anything ugly, so don't even try to go there, Mr. Williams. We both spent time with her, had suppers, talked, that kind of thing over several months, and eventually she decided that she and Heyes, well, he was the one for her, and me and her were friends."

"And how did that make you feel, Mr. Curry? Angry? Jealous? Did you and Mr. Heyes ever fight over her?"

"No!" the Kid shouted. "Nothing like that!"

"Objection!" Mr. Brubaker yelled.

"Sustained. Mr. Williams, I think you are reaching a bit too far."

"Your Honor, I simply want the witness to answer the last question about how he felt when Miss Malone chose Mr. Heyes over him, that's all."

"I'll allow it. Mr. Curry, answer that one question."

The Kid had to cool down a bit more before he could answer. "I wasn't exactly jumpin' for joy, but Heyes is like my brother, and I wanted him and Cashie to be happy. So, I backed off, and I've supported them ever since."

"No further questions for this witness," Williams said and sat down.

"Do you have any more questions for the witness, Mr. Brubaker?" the judge asked.

"Just a few, Your Honor, to help clarify the situation Mr. Williams seems to have left us in." He got up and turned to the Kid. "Mr. Curry, do you find Miss Malone attractive?"

The kid chortled slightly. "Of course, I do."

"And are you ever jealous of her relationship with Mr. Heyes?"

"No. He's like a brother to me, and she's a great friend, and sort of like a sister to me. I'm happy for them, and I would never do anything to hurt either one of them."

"Thank you, Mr. Curry. No further questions."

The Kid and Brubaker sat back down at the table. Cashie and Heyes both gave them bright smiles.

"Mr. Williams, do you have any other witnesses you want to call or recall?" the judge asked.

"Yes, Your Honor, I have a few more questions for Miss Cashie Malone."

At hearing her name, Cashie got up and returned to the witness chair. The judge admonished her once more that she was still under oath.

"Miss Malone, do you confirm everything that Mr. Heyes and Mr. Curry have said about your relationships with them?"

"Yes," she answered.

"Now, would you please tell this court your feelings for both men, in your own words."

Cashie closed her eyes momentarily to catch her breath before answering. "I love them both…in entirely different ways. I want to marry Hannibal, and Kid is my friend and like a brother, just like he said."

"All right. And do you concur with Mr. Heyes' statement that you and he have never had sexual relations?"

Cashie was tired of this line of questioning, but she knew she had to follow through as much as she'd love to use D.A. Williams for target practice. "Yes," she said, her eyes meeting Hannibal's straight on.

"Have you ever had sexual relations with any other man?"

That was it. He'd gone too far. "No, I have not, you pompous, self-righteous pathetic excuse for a human being!" Cashie yelled, jumping to her feet and trying to slap the D.A. with all her might.

The courtroom went haywire, the citizens laughing and applauding, with some women and men yelling "Let him have it, Cashie!" The bailiff got between the D. A. and the witness and managed to keep the peace, while the judge banged his gavel and called for order.

Heyes and the Kid tried to hide their huge grins with their hands, glad that Cashie had been the one to break and show that temper of hers to D.A. Williams. Even Mr. Brubaker couldn't stifle a grin.

Once order was established back in the courtroom, Judge Rhinehart looked at the D.A. and said, "Are you finished, Mr. Williams, because I sure hope you are."

"Yes, Your Honor," the man said quietly, knowing full well he'd been out of line and had probably paid the price for his arrogance.

"Court is recessed for dinner. We will resume at two o'clock with Mr. Brubaker calling witnesses for the defense and closing statements if there is time." He banged his gavel.

"All rise," yelled the bailiff as the judge left.

Heyes met Cashie with a hug and a kiss. The Kid gave her a hug as well.

Mr. Brubaker was smiling. Certainly, he would never have advised his client to lose her temper as she had, but in this case, it seemed to have been the right thing to do, and the jury and townspeople approved.

As they enjoyed dinner in the jail, the reformed outlaws tried to relax and stop worrying about the trial. Their attorney seemed pleased and confident that they were winning.

"I know this has been hard, but anything worthwhile is not going to be easy," he assured them. "I think I can honestly say that we have done exactly what we set out to do, which is to make the people of this town like you and be willing to forgive you and give you the chance of a new life. We are so close, my friends. So close."

"Yeah, I just hope there aren't any more surprises. Both you and the D.A. have hit us hard on some sore subjects," the Kid said.

"Yes, but I'm afraid it couldn't be helped, Mr. Curry. You see what the D.A. was trying to start today, which is why I felt I had to nip that subject in the bud yesterday. Still he kept after you, but in the end, it blew up in his face, I believe."

Heyes laughed. "Yeah, they should have let Cashie go on after him."

"I think some of them wanted her to," the Kid added.

"I hope I never have to answer another question of his," Cashie said with anger still in her voice.

"What happens next?" Heyes asked Mr. Brubaker.

"I want to ask the sheriff to speak on your behalf," their attorney explained. "Then we make closing statements, and it goes into the hands of the jurors."

"So, it's possible we may be finished today?" the Kid asked.

"Possible, yes. "Probable, I don't think so. It will depend on how long the sheriff's testimony takes and the closing statements. My guess is the jury will come back and deliberate in the morning."

"So, we might be going free today or tomorrow or…" Cashie began.

"Don't think that way, sweetheart. Remember to be positive and have faith. Like Mr. Brubaker said, we're so close now."

"Exactly!" their attorney agreed. "Now let me speak to the sheriff about his testimony, and I'll see you back in court soon."

After their attorney left, the three were quiet. Their futures seemed so close and yet still so far away.

Soon the sheriff said it was time to return to court.

Hannibal and Cashie walked arm in arm into the courtroom. He smiled at her and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek as the bystanders took their seats. He wanted them to see how much he loved her and she loved him. He hoped their love would be a big part of helping them become free in this small town of Martinsburg, Nebraska and ultimately gain their amnesty from Wyoming.

Finally, the judge came in, the jury took their places and Mr. Brubaker called Sheriff Riley as his final witness for the defense. The old sheriff gladly took his seat in the witness chair.

"State your name and your office, please," Mr. Brubaker said.

"Hank Riley, Sheriff of the town of Martinsburg," he answered.

"And how long have you been sheriff here?"

"Twelve years," was the answer.

"Sheriff Riley, can you tell me how the three defendants came to be in your jail?"

"Well, my deputy spotted them on Christmas Eve, figured out who they were, and we got a posse together to go after them."

"Had they broken any law here in Martinsburg that you knew of, Sheriff?"

"No, not that I'm aware of."

"So, you got this posse together simply because of the wanted posters and because your deputy believed they were Heyes, Curry and Malone, the infamous outlaws. Is that correct?"

"Yes, it is," the sheriff replied.

"But you didn't catch them that day, did you?"

"No, sir. The weather turned bad. It went to snowing and soon became a blizzard, so we turned back for town before the storm got worse."

"But your deputy stayed and eventually found them."

"Yes, he brought them in the next day. Christmas Day, to be exact."

"Now, Sheriff Riley, could you please tell us about your interactions with the three defendants? For instance, have they been cooperative? Have they been difficult? What exactly has been your experience with them?"

The sheriff didn't hesitate. "They've been model prisoners. Never offered one bit of trouble. Very polite, very thankful to be out of the storm and to be warm and be fed. Said they were tired of runnin'."

"Yes, and did there come a time when they told you they wanted a lawyer?"

"Yes, sir, and I thought they were crazy."

The audience laughed but soon settled down.

"Why did you think they were crazy, sheriff?" Mr. Brubaker asked.

"Because everyone knew they were wanted in Wyoming, and I didn't see what good a lawyer was gonna do them."

"But you did get them a lawyer, didn't you? In fact, you came and asked me to talk to them, isn't that right?"

"Yes, sir, it sure is."

"And after I talked with my clients, I told you a very unique story, didn't I?"

"Yes, you did. A very fascinating story that I could hardly believe until you showed me proof."

"And can you tell the jury what that story was, Sheriff Riley?"

"Yes, I can. You told me that the three prisoners I had in my jail had all gone straight for about three years while waiting for an amnesty from the governor of Wyoming."

"That's right. And did you become aware of the reason why you didn't already have this knowledge or your deputy or anyone else, for that matter?"

"Yes, I did."

"And what was that reason, sheriff?"

"Because the governor didn't want anyone to know it but him and a few others. He wanted them to go straight but still be wanted until such time as he was ready to grant them amnesty."

"Did they tell you how long it had been since they first made this deal with the governor of Wyoming?"

"Yes, they said, and you verified, that they were first told it would be for one year. Then after that year, there was a new governor and he told them the same thing but they'd have to start all over, and then it got postponed again and again for political reasons."

"Thank you, sheriff. Now tell me about the arrangements you made for the defendants at first and then later on."

"At first, they all three stayed in the one cell. It wasn't ideal because of Miss Malone, so I had a privacy screen brought over from the hotel to…well, give her some privacy when nature called, I guess you could say."

"And later on?"

"She needed more privacy because of personal issues, women's issues, that is, so I had her sent over to the hotel so she could have her own room, with a deputy posted at her door, of course."

The ladies in the room gasped when they realized the "personal issues" the sheriff must have been speaking of, but soon quieted down.

"How did Miss Malone feel about being separated from Mr. Heyes and Mr. Curry?"

"She was fine at first, and so were they, but after a few days they all seemed out of sorts, especially Mr. Heyes, so I decided to take him over for a visit with her."

"And how did that go?"

"Just fine. They were like two little kids, so glad to see one another. I left them alone for a little bit before I took him back to the jail."

"You left them alone? So, no guard, no cuffs?"

"Nope. Didn't see no need for any of that. None of them had given me any trouble, and I knew he won't about to try to do anything without her, or her without him. Like I said before, they've been model prisoners, not one bit of trouble."

"Can you tell the court what Miss Malone proposed that you do for her friends at that time?"

"Yes, she wondered if they couldn't get a room of their own at the hotel instead of stayin' in the jail."

"What did you tell her about that idea?"

"I told her I didn't have the budget, and it would be up to you, but that I didn't think it would work."

"How did she react to that news?"

The sheriff laughed. "She wanted to go back to the jail with them. Said it won't fair for her to be at the hotel and them in jail. And you well know when you told her that's the way it was gonna be, she was very hot under the collar."

The courtroom erupted in laughter once again.

"Yes, she was very adamant about that point, but I finally made her understand my reasoning behind the decision," Mr. Brubaker elaborated. "Now, from that point on, did you have any trouble with any of the defendants as far as where they were incarcerated or when they were allowed to visit each other or any other matters?"

"No, sir, not a bit. Miss Malone requested to see her friends once a day, and then you and I determined that it would be a good idea to let them visit once a day and eat together at the town restaurant, which we did from that point on until the trial began."

"And did their eating at the restaurant cause any problems or require any additional protection or restrictions, sheriff?"

"No sir, not at all. You and I would take them to the restaurant, we'd eat together, no problems at all. Didn't need any guns or cuffs or anything. And after the townspeople saw who they were and that they weren't no threat that first time, they started coming over to our table and sayin' hello and meetin' 'em and gettin' to know one another. It was all very pleasant."

"Thank you, Sheriff Riley. One final question. "How do you feel about the defendants and do you believe they are reformed and worthy of this amnesty they've been working toward three long years?"

Mr. Brubaker had not asked the sheriff what his answer would be to this question, but he was fairly sure he knew. Now was the moment of truth.

Sheriff Riley took a moment to consider his words carefully before answering, "I have found them to be friendly, courteous, and respectful of the law. And yes, I do believe they have reformed their lives and should be given a second chance to make a new life right here in our little town, if they so choose."

Brubaker smiled. "So, you are not in favor of sending them back to Wyoming, Sheriff Riley?"

The sheriff let out a laugh, and with a big smile on his face, he said, "I sure am not."

The courthouse broke out in whoops and hollers as well as smiles all around. Heyes, Curry and Cashie felt vindicated simply by the trust Sheriff Riley had put in them and now had told the entire town his feelings. They were all smiles as well.

"Thank you, Sheriff. That's all."

The judge asked the D.A. if he wished to question the sheriff, but he declined. "You may now step down, Sheriff," the judge instructed.

The sheriff got up and went to the back of the room, but not before flashing his "prisoners" a huge grin.

"Is there any other matter or witness to be entertained, gentlemen?" Judge Rhinehart asked.

Mr. Brubaker stood and said, "Yes, Your Honor. I have some other evidence I wish to present."

"Proceed," Judge Rhinehart said.

The attorney picked up two pieces of paper and approached the judge.

"Your Honor, I had hoped to have one more witness for the defense, Sheriff Lom Trevors from Porterville, Wyoming. I have a telegram here dated December 27 affirming my clients' story about the amnesty and stating his desire to help in any way he could, including to testify at this trial.

"I also have a telegram dated only a few days ago stating that he could not testify at this trial as he had been forbidden by the governor of Wyoming to do so. I'd like to present both of these telegrams as evidence to the court. I believe they not only support my clients' defense but show the political chicanery they have had to endure for the past three years."

Brubaker handed the two telegrams to Judge Rhinehart, who looked them over.

"Thank you, Mr. Brubaker," the judge said. "Anything else?"

"No, Your Honor. The defense rests."

"All right. Have a seat. Anything further from you, Mr. Williams?"

The D.A. shook his head and answered, "No, Your Honor."

"That being the case, you may make your closing arguments. Mr. Williams?"

The D.A. took his time going over his notes before he stood and addressed the jury.

"Gentlemen of the jury," he began. "You know the sordid history of these three outlaws, how they have robbed hundreds of trains and banks over the years and created all kind of havoc for not only the rich train companies and bank presidents but many average citizens who put their money in those banks or who were to be paid through payrolls the trains carried.

"They became so infamous they had rewards put on them for a total of $25,000. We've shown you the posters, two of which are for such heinous crimes that they are wanted dead or alive. There is no doubt they committed these offenses. They admitted they did.

"However, they come before us with this fairy tale about having been promised amnesty from the governor of Wyoming if they would only stay out of trouble for a year or two, which they say they are still waiting for. They say they've gone straight and want to live normal lives, even get married and have children.

"But I must point out that all of them are liars, particularly Mr. Heyes, who is known for being able to con people and make them believe his lies. He is said to have a 'silver tongue' he is so crafty at the art of lying.

"Do you really want to let these outlaws go free here in this town instead of being sent back to Wyoming to stand trial for their many crimes? Do you want them living here in Martinsburg with our citizens, fearing they might return to their thieving ways and harm or possibly kill our good townspeople?

"I say no you don't. Cast your vote to send these outlaws back for the punishment they deserve in Wyoming. Nebraska doesn't want them here. Martinsburg does not want them here. Thank you, gentlemen."

With those words, D. A. Williams sat back down, a smug look upon his face.

"Mr. Brubaker, your final words," the judge instructed.

The young attorney smiled at his clients before standing and moving toward the jury.

"Gentlemen of the jury, you have heard the evidence both for and against the defendants. Now it is up to you to weigh the two sides in your hands and see which outweighs the other.

"My clients have not come here to harm anyone or commit any crimes. As you heard their testimony, they gave that life up over three years ago and have become honest, law-abiding, peace-loving citizens like yourselves. That's what I'd like for you to remember most from this testimony: not what they have been in the past, but what they are today.

"By our sheriff's own admission, these people have been nothing but cooperative and sincere since they were arrested on Christmas Day and brought to our jail. Their main concern has been looking after each other and trying their best to be good citizens and model prisoners as they have awaited this trial.

"Now the D.A. has tried to find fault with their personal lives, suggesting impropriety and even immorality in the relationships between Mr. Heyes and Miss Malone as well as Miss Malone and Mr. Curry. He has proven nothing. What we do know is that Mr. Heyes and Miss Malone want to marry and have children. So far there have been no children, and they said they refused to bring children into a life where they might not grow up with a father or mother, as was the case with Mr. Heyes and Mr. Curry.

"Miss Malone told you her story about how her parents tried to force her into a marriage she did not want, and how she quite accidentally came to know Mr. Heyes and Mr. Curry and how kind and understanding they were with her. There was no violence shown to her or between the two men who came to care for her.

"Yes, for a number of years they lived lives that were wrong as far as stealing, years they sincerely regret. But does that mean they don't deserve a second chance? Can you not find it in your hearts to forgive them as our Saviour forgives all his children who repent and ask for forgiveness? Vote to not send them back to Wyoming but to provide sanctuary here in Martinsburg, Nebraska until such time as the governor of Wyoming will agree to grant them the amnesty he promised them. As the Good Book says, 'Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.' Give Mr. Heyes, Mr. Curry and Miss Malone a second chance, a chance to live normal lives and become productive citizens. I ask that you grant them this stay of extradition and an order of sanctuary here in our town. Thank you."

Mr. Brubaker sat down, and the judge gave his charge to the jury, who were directed to a separate room for their deliberations. It was only four o'clock in the afternoon, so if they did come up with a verdict today, it would be a very quick decision.

Judge Rhinehart dismissed the court, and many people began to scatter. Mr. Brubaker and his clients stayed seated at their table for a few moments waiting for the room to clear. They looked hopeful but realized there was a chance they might still lose the case and be sent back to Wyoming.

Some of the townspeople came by to shake their hands and wish them luck, saying they hoped they won the case and could stay in town. It was a good feeling for each of them to know they had friends here who actually supported their dream of amnesty.

Heyes said, "We could never thank you enough, Mr. Brubaker, for what you've done for us."

"Yeah, even if we lose, we thank you for tryin'," the Kid added.

The sheriff allowed them to wait together at the hotel this one time. Cashie's room was already paid for, and he figured it would be nice for the three of them to be comfortable there until the jury returned, if indeed they did return today.

After about an hour, the bailiff let them know the jury was back. So, there would be a verdict today!

The three former outlaws hugged one another before they started the walk back to the courthouse. No one said a word. This was the final play in their book, and no one wanted to jinx a good verdict or be too confident. They took their seats and waited for the judge and jury to return.

As soon as they did, Judge Rhinehart called the court to order. Then he asked, "Has the jury reached a decision?"

The foreman said, "Yes, Your Honor."

"Well, let's hear it," the judge said impatiently.

"The jury finds the defendants not guilty of any crimes in the state of Nebraska. We agree to the stay of extradition back to Wyoming. And we hereby grant them sanctuary in the town of Martinsburg, Nebraska until such time as the governor of Wyoming grants them amnesty in that state."

Cashie, Heyes and Curry were all smiles, hugging one another and even Mr. Brubaker. Several "hoorays" and shouts of joy rang through the courtroom along with a huge round of applause until the judge called for order.

Finally, the people quieted down enough that Judge Rhinehart could say, "Mr. Heyes, Mr. Curry and Miss Malone, you are free to go to live your lives within the law in this town. I will see that the proper papers are signed and sent to both Lincoln and to Laramie, Wyoming stating this is the will of the court here in Martinsburg. I wish you well." And with one more bang of his gavel, the trial was over.

They had won! Heyes' gut feelings, his faith, his talk about destiny had granted them freedom, if only in this one small town. But they would be safe here, free of posses and bounty hunters and anyone seeking to put them in jail until the governor of Wyoming sent the decree of amnesty for the three of them.

They thanked their attorney profusely, but Mr. Brubaker said, "You are the ones who won this battle. Your good deeds and words changed the opinion of the jury and the whole town in your favor. I played only a small part as your representative."

"Congratulations, boys, ma'am," Sheriff Riley came over and said, shaking each one's hand. "I'll have to say I'm pleased with the way things turned out. If I can help either of you in any way, just let me know."

Heyes was the first to shake the sheriff's hand. "Thank you, Sheriff. You were so kind to us throughout this ordeal, and we appreciate what you said on the stand as well as the good treatment we received from you the past month. We'll never forget your kindness."

Cashie didn't care anymore about Mr. Brubaker's rules. She hugged the sheriff's neck, the young attorney's and both her partners'. The Kid kissed her on both cheeks, and finally Heyes planted a juicy and as passionate kiss as he dared in public right on her lips.

They decided to join the crowd at the restaurant, where they had eaten so many meals and gotten to know so many of the townspeople, for a celebratory supper. But before they ordered any meals, Heyes had one thing he wanted to take care of first.

"Can I have everyone's attention," he yelled over the voices of the supper crowd. "Please, just a moment to say a few words."

Once he got their attention, the crowd quieted down to barely a whisper.

"I want to thank all of you so much for your kindness and your confidence in us," he said with sincerity. "We haven't had a place to call home in a very long time, but I think we've found one here in Martinsburg. Wouldn't you agree, Cashie? Kid?" he said, directing his gaze to them.

"Yes!" they shouted together, and the room exploded with applause.

But Hannibal Heyes had more to say.

"Folks, there's one thing I need to do and say before we get this celebration started. I simply cannot wait any longer. So, if you'll bear with me just a moment…"

He looked directly at Cashie. "I want to ask Cashie Malone, the love of my life, if she would come over here and stand with me just a minute."

His smile was sweet and beckoning. Cashie didn't know what was happening, but she blushed as she came to stand with him, gazing into his chocolate brown eyes, a smile on her face.

And then he did what he had been wanting to do for so many years. He took her hand in his, got down on one knee and said loud enough for the whole room to hear, "Margaret Cashilyn Malone, will you marry me?"

There were more gasps and then the room was filled with silence as everyone held their breath waiting for the reply.

Cashie could feel her cheeks turning red, but she didn't care, and her eyes never left his. "Yes, Hannibal Heyes, I'll marry you," she said as tears filled her eyes.

"Finally!" he shouted as he stood up and pulled her to him, planting a huge kiss on his now fiancé's lips. Then he lifted her off the floor and swung her around.

Cheers and applause filled the room. Even the Kid and Mr. Brubaker had tears in their eyes, as did Sheriff Riley.

After another round of hugs and kisses, Heyes led his fiancé back to the table their little group had saved for them.

Someone in the crowd shouted, "When's the weddin', Heyes?"

Heyes shook his head and said, "Not sure, but just as soon as we can arrange it. And you're all invited." He looked over at Cashie. "Right, darlin'?"

She smiled and leaned in for another gentle kiss, and said, "Right." The crowd went wild again.

After they'd had supper and received many more well wishes, the three former outlaws left the restaurant headed for the hotel. Heyes and the Kid planned to take another room across from Cashie's as soon as they picked up their belongings at the sheriff's office. It was hard to believe but felt so good to know they were finally in control of their destinations.

Once they got their things and settled at the hotel, Heyes paid a visit to Cashie's room so they could talk things over.

"We did it," he said, whisking her into his arms. "We're engaged to be married."

"Yes, we are." Cashie smiled and accepted his kisses while giving him plenty in return.

"So, when do you want to get married, sweetheart?" Heyes asked. "Whatever and whenever you want, we'll make it happen."

Cashie had to catch her breath before she could answer him. "I don't know right off hand. Just soon, and I'd like it to be a pretty ceremony. Oh Han, we've waited so long. I can hardly believe we can actually make plans."

Heyes looked deeply into the blue pools of her eyes. "Didn't I tell you to have faith, that we've been brought to this town for a reason?"

"Yes, you did," she smiled, "and you made it come true."

"We all did, honey," he replied. "You, me, the Kid, Mr. Brubaker, even the sheriff and the townspeople. It took all of us, and a little help from the man upstairs." He pointed upward like he had so many weeks ago.

"So, let's think about dates, and all the other things you have to do and decide about a wedding. Do you want a justice of the peace or a minister?"

"After what we've been through, I think a minister is called for," Cashie said softly. "We've surely been given a miracle."

"Yeah, I think so too. Say, Valentine's Day isn't far away. What do you think about that day?"

"I don't know. Seems too long to wait. And I'd like to find a real wedding dress with a veil and everything. Do you think that would be possible?

"If that's what you want," Heyes assured her.

"I'll see if that Mrs. Obermier has something."

"And the Kid can be my best man, and we'll wear our best suits," Heyes said with a rush.

Cashie ruffled his hair and squeezed his cheeks lovingly before getting serious. "I know in our hearts we've been married for a very long time, but to finally make it legal and be Mr. and Mrs. Heyes in public and everything…it's a dream come true."

"For me, too, honey. No more hiding, no more running, no more holding back. We can have it all."

They spent about an hour together, talking about their plans and hopes and dreams. With their freedom being so new and now publicly engaged, they both thought it best to maintain the propriety that Mr. Brubaker had scolded them on so many times. So Cashie stayed alone in her room while Heyes joined his partner in the other room. He and the Kid also had to make plans.

"So, you two are finally gettin' married," the Kid said as Heyes walked in and sat down on the side of the bed. "Imagine that, and we can walk freely in this town without fear of being put in jail or hauled off to Wyoming."

"We've come a long way since that horrible Christmas Eve and Day, haven't we, Kid?"

"Damn straight we have. Of course, it was all your idea. I knew you'd come up with somethin'."

"Even I couldn't see things this clearly. Sure, I could have picked the lock and maybe we could have snuck out. But for what? Back to the same old life, freezin' and starvin' and nowhere to lay our heads half the time. I just couldn't do that anymore. Couldn't do it to Cashie."

"I'll bet she's over the moon right now, huh?"

"Yeah, she's pretty happy. Neither of us want to wait long, but she does want a wedding dress, and we're gonna have the minister marry us. Oh, and by the way, you are going to be my best man, aren't you?" Heyes gave his partner a look that said he'd better be.

"Wild horses couldn't keep me away, Heyes. You should know that. I'd be honored. What are cousins, and partners, for?" the Kid said, laughing.

"Yeah, we've been through a lot together, since we were kids. And we both love Cashie in our own ways. Just wouldn't be right if you didn't stand up there with us."

Things got quiet between them, both thinking serious thoughts now about the future and how their lives might change.

"You know we've got to get jobs, too," Heyes admitted. "I don't think Mr. Brubaker will keep footin' the bill for these hotel rooms or our meals. And Cashie wants that wedding dress. Imagine us, workin' regular jobs, me comin' home to Cashie. I don't where, right now, but somewhere. And you…"

He didn't finish the sentence. Didn't know how, really. He felt a bit guilty that after all these years he and Cashie would have one another, but what about the Kid? Where would that leave him and who would he find? And how would things change between them?

"I can take care of myself," Kid answered defensively. "I ain't exactly a 'kid' anymore even though you refuse to stop callin' me one."

"Aw, it ain't meant in a bad way and you know it. It's just become a habit, and anyways, that's what it says on your wanted poster."

The two men burst out laughing at the absurdity of their conversation. The last thing they wanted to do after such a wonderful day was argue over a silly nickname. With lingering grins, they got ready for bed and blew out the lamp.

"Night, Heyes."

"Night, Kid."

And they laughed once more.


	8. At Last!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wedding they've been waiting for so long happens at last!

The next day, Heyes and Cashie walked over to the church and asked Reverend Finke about doing them the honor of marrying them at the church. He greeted them warmly and assured them he'd be glad to, all they had to do was let him know the date.

Part of that depended on whether or not Cashie could find a real wedding dress and how soon she could get it. They first made a trip to see Mr. Groover at the mercantile. Cashie looked through the catalog he had and found some dresses she liked and felt they could afford, but Mr. Groover said with the weather being so unpredictable that time of the year, he couldn't promise how quickly an order of any kind would arrive.

Next, they headed over to Mrs. Obermier's store. The German lady had been so helpful to her when she was trying to find a new dress a month earlier, and the bride-to-be hoped she could help her once more. She greeted the older woman with a warm smile.

"Hello, Mrs. Obermier. Do you remember me?"

The seamstress made a face to show what a silly question she thought that was and immediately came over to give the young woman a hug. "How could I forget?" she said affectionately. "And now you are talk of town."

She and Cashie laughed, while Hannibal stood beside his fiancé with a huge grin on his face. Cashie decided it was time she introduce him to the woman who had been so kind to her.

"Mrs. Obermier, this is my fiancé, Hannibal Heyes. Han, this lady is Mrs. Obermier. She's the one who found that pretty dress for me back when we were first…well…in need of some new clothes."

Heyes offered his hand and said, "Very nice to meet you."

The seamstress shook his hand, sized him up and then turned her attention to Cashie as she chortled, "You make good choice."

Then she turned to Heyes and said, "She beautiful woman. Make beautiful bride, ja?"

"Oh yes," Heyes said with another huge grin.

Cashie smiled at her new friend. "I was hoping you could help me with that. I'd like to find a wedding dress. Do you have something?"

"I have many dresses," she stated and patted Cashie's arm. "Not so many wedding dresses, but for you, I make something special."

Cashie's eyes lit up. "Really? You think so?"

"Surely. I still have measurements for you," the woman nodded.

"Oh, thank you so much!" Cashie said and gave the seamstress a hug. "Can you give me some idea how long it might take." She looked up at Hannibal. "We want to get married as soon as possible." He smiled back down at her.

"Few days. Week at most," Mrs. Obermier replied.

Cashie let out a delightful laugh. "That's wonderful!" she cried. "Perfect." And the hugs began again. Even Heyes got a hug from the older German woman.

"I let you know when to come in," she said.

"Thank you," Cashie and Heyes said at the same time.

With that matter behind them, the couple walked over to the restaurant to get a bite to eat. The Kid was at the livery stable checking on their horses and the possibility of a job. Heyes had made a few inquiries, but nothing solid had come up so far. The three of them had only a few dollars between them when they'd been arrested, so there would need to be some income very soon.

Of course, there was always poker, but Heyes didn't much like the idea of making money that way, at least not much, considering it was the people of Martinsburg they had to thank for their freedom.

Ultimately, it was Mr. Groover at the mercantile who offered Heyes a job as a salesman there. The former outlaw remembered the day he and the Kid had come by to get new clothes from the merchant. They hadn't been received pleasantly then, but now Groover seemed to be a big supporter like most of the townsfolk.

It was only a couple of days before Mrs. Obermier sent word for Cashie to come by her shop. She had a dress nearly ready that she wanted the bride to try on. Cashie hurried to meet her.

"Oh, Mrs. Obermier, I'm amazed you've worked so fast." The seamstress smiled and held up a white satin dress with lace sleeves, a slight train in the back and a matching lace headpiece. It was the most beautiful dress Cashie had ever seen."

Her blue eyes grew big and her mouth flew open in wonder. "I love it," she whispered, tears filling her eyes. "It's exactly what I wanted. How could you know?"

"You want lovely but simple, no?"

Cashie nodded. "Nothing too fancy, simple but elegant. It's perfect."

She threw her arms around the woman, who hugged her in return. The German immigrant and the former outlaw had felt a bond from the moment they'd met, and now this dress was the embodiment of that bond.

"You try on now. It might need alteration," Mrs. Obermier said and led the way back behind the curtain as she had the first day they'd met. She helped Cashie get her regular dress off, and then slid the bridal dress over her head. She buttoned it in the back and tied the sashes on either side. Then she held out the headpiece. Cashie ducked down so the seamstress wouldn't have so far to reach to place it on her head. Mrs. Obermier had her turn to see herself in the full-length mirror.

The image she saw there took her breath away. The dress fit perfectly, and the headpiece set if off in such a way that Cashie was in awe. She looked and felt like a new person, like a real bride. The vision stunned her and brought her to tears.

"It is so beautiful," she whispered. "I can't believe I'm getting married to the man I love in a real wedding dress. I never thought…" Tears ran down her cheeks, and Mrs. Obermier had to wipe them from her eyes as well.

The older woman gave Cashie a tiny hug this time, trying not to disturb the beautiful dress she was wearing. Then she looked around and brought out a matching pair of ladies' boots to complete the ensemble. The woman was nothing if not thorough.

"Oh my," Cashie gasped. "You think of everything." Then she put on the new shoes and stood looking at the visage of herself in the mirror. "I can't wait until Hannibal sees me," she squealed with joy.

Mrs. Obermier shook her head. "Not until wedding. Bad luck."

Cashie laughed. "Of course. Well, I guess I'd better take it off then before he walks in or somethin'." She took the headpiece off and turned so Mrs. Obermier could help her with the buttons and bows. When she pulled it over her head, the seamstress took it and gently hung it back on the rack.

"I will press and have ready for you. Just tell me when you can pick up."

Cashie thought and realized there was nothing else standing in the way. She and Hannibal could now set the date for the ceremony.

"I'll talk with my fiancé and let you know by tomorrow," she said. "And now please tell me how much I owe you."

The woman shook her head and said, "Dress is paid for. Everything is paid for."

Cashie frowned, not understanding how this could be. "But you…no, I have to pay you for this gorgeous dress, Mrs. Obermier. You can't…"

But the woman shook her head again. "You no pay," she said emphatically. "Dress is paid for, I tell you."

"But how?" Cashie wanted to know.

Mrs. Obermier laughed. "Secret," is all she would say.

Cashie covered her mouth with her hand and giggled, not having a clue what was going on but very happy to have such a beautiful dress for the wedding of her dreams.

"Thank you so much," she whispered and gave the woman another hug. She blinked back the tears as she left the store. Mrs. Obermier watched her go with a smile.

Back at the hotel, Cashie washed her face and then waited to hear from Hannibal or the Kid since they were both working. She wanted to let them know about the dress and that they could set the date of the wedding. By her thoughts, it could be as early as Saturday or Sunday, only two or three days at the most. They had to tell Reverend Finke and get the license and that was that. In just a few short days, she would be Mrs. Hannibal Heyes.

It wasn't quite dark when the two men came in from work. Hannibal knocked on Cashie's door to let her know they were "home." She ran to the door and threw it open as fast as possible, her arms reaching for Heyes. The Kid looked on and laughed. He had an idea what was up.

"The dress is ready, Han," Cashie gushed. It's ready and it's exactly what I wanted."

Heyes flashed that famous smile of his as he picked her up off the floor with excitement and then set her back down. "Well, that's good news," he said with glee. "Now all we have to do is set the date and time and show up."

"Yep, that sounds great," the Kid said, slapping his partner on the back. He then leaned in to give Cashie a hug too. "So that Mrs…What's her name again? came through for ya?"

"Absolutely, and it's Mrs. Obermier. She's German. I couldn't believe it. It's exactly what I wanted and fits perfectly. Oh, you're both going to love it. I love it. I love it so much!"

They all gathered in the hotel room to finish the conversation. The Kid sat down in one of the chairs while Cashie and Heyes sat on the end of the bed.

"Well, how much do I owe her," Heyes asked, wondering if he had enough money yet to pay for this beautiful dress.

Cashie looked puzzled. "I thought you already paid her."

Heyes let out a slight laugh. "How could I pay her? You just told me about the dress, honey." Now he looked puzzled. They both turned to the Kid with questioning looks.

Then he looked confused and said, "Don't look at me. I don't know nothin' about this dress or any dress. Uh-uh!"

"Well, she said it's already been paid for," Cashie explained. "I thought you…" She pointed at Heyes then stopped mid-sentence. "Well, if neither of you paid for it, then who?"

"Do you think she did it for free?" the Kid asked, groping for answers.

"She said it was paid for," came the reply. "I'm sure she needs the money. I mean, maybe she discounted it or something, but no, I don't think she's just giving me the dress for free."

"Well, then, we have a mystery on our hands," Heyes said.

"Maybe Mr. Brubaker?" the Kid wondered aloud.

"After all that man has already done for us for free," Heyes answered. "I doubt it."

"Then who?" Cashie wondered.

"I don't know, but I hope we find out. That's a mighty nice gesture, whoever did it. But I suppose that leaves us with just one thing to figure out. When do we want to get married? What do ya think?"

"I think I'll let the two of you figure that out," the Kid said and started to get up.

"Oh no, you don't." Heyes stopped him. "You're supposed to be there too, so you might as well help us figure out the best date and time."

"If you say so," the Kid answered and sat back down. "All right, you two, when's it gonna be?"

"What does my bride-to-be think?" Heyes turned his attention to Cashie.

"I was thinking either Saturday or Sunday afternoon, whichever works best for the Reverend," she replied. "Does that sound good?"

"Sounds great to me," the groom-to-be said with a huge grin. "What do you think, Kid?"

"Fine with me. Guess you better talk to the Reverend and soon."

"How 'bout we get some supper and then you and I can go visit the good Reverend, sweetheart?"

"Wonderful!" Cashie exclaimed with a huge smile on her face. "Let's get going."

Out the door they went headed for the restaurant. As fate would have it, the Reverend just happened to be there. They decided Saturday afternoon about three o'clock would be the best day and time. Cashie would go by and pick up her dress from Mrs. Obermier the next day, and they would let folks around town know, as well as getting the marriage license ready to be signed after the ceremony.

Just a few details in a short time, and then Hannibal Heyes and Cashie Malone would finally be "husband and wife" in every sense of the term.

Cashie picked up her dress from Mrs. Obermier the next day, which was Thursday, and told her the wedding would take place that Saturday at three o'clock. The seamstress was happy to receive this news and offered to come by the hotel and help the bride get ready and be sure her wedding dress and accouterments were in perfect form. Cashie was overjoyed to hear this.

Heyes took care of the marriage license details and got everything square with the minister and officials. The only thing he needed now was a ring for his beloved. He hoped his new boss at the mercantile could help him with that matter.

The night before the wedding, Heyes and Cashie spent some "special time" together in her hotel room, their final night before they would be husband and wife. It was a time of joy but also slightly frazzled nerves as they looked forward to the ceremony itself and their life together afterwards. Until they could find suitable housing, they planned to keep Cashie's hotel room as their own. They figured, in time, everything would work out the way it was supposed to, as long as they stayed within the town and on the right side of the law, which they absolutely intended to do.

They lay together on the bed, kissing and touching one another in ways they had come to appreciate so much. But Cashie had something different on her mind that quite surprised her husband-to-be.

As she pulled off his shirt and let her hands ripple over the muscles of his back and chest, they both became caught up in the passion and desire they had held at bay for so many years. He obliged her by pulling her upper dress down revealing her bosoms and kissing them lovingly, which brought her intense pleasure.

"This is the last time we have to hold back," he whispered and his tongue raked across her nipples and he tugged on them gently with his teeth. "Tomorrow we can be one in every way."

Cashie moaned and caressed him in all the places he enjoyed, giving pleasure as she received it. But she wanted more. She wanted all of him.

"What difference does one night make?" she whispered breathlessly. We'll be married tomorrow. I want all of you now," she moaned.

"And I want all of you," he whispered back, still kissing parts of her with all the passion in his heart and soul.

"Then let's not wait any longer. You've been my husband in every way but one. Why should we wait one more day when we're married in our hearts and will be in every way in a few hours?"

Heyes was so breathless with passion he barely heard her words, and he longed to embrace her with all his body and soul. But something inside him made him stop and bury his head in her chest. She held him close to her, waiting to see what he would do next.

He lifted his head away and stared into her blue eyes, so full of hunger and desire, and wanted her just as badly, but instead he pushed away from her, rolled over beside her and took in a deep breath before blowing it back out.

Cashie was waiting, wondering if she'd done or said something wrong. She hadn't expected this reaction at all.

"What's the matter?" she finally asked, concern in her voice. "Did I do or say something wrong?"

He grabbed her hand and held it tightly in his and turned his face to look at her directly. "You did absolutely nothing wrong, my sweet woman. Neither of us did. If wanting to be together in every way is a sin, then we failed miserably years ago. Don't you know I want you just as bad as you want me?"

"I thought you did, that's why I asked…"

"I know. I want it too. But I can't help but think how blessed we've been and how the fact that we waited was probably best in so many ways, least of all for what came out in the trial. Maybe I'm a silly traditionalist or just paranoid, but I think I want us to say those vows and be as pure of heart as we can be before we take these final steps that will seal us for life and hopefully start us on the way to having those babies we've always talked about." He paused and turned to give her a sweet peck on the check. "And I want you to at least feel reasonably proud to wear that white wedding gown you've raved about so much."

She smiled and touched his cheek tenderly, knowing he was right. "I suppose I wouldn't feel as good wearing that dress if we took all of our pleasure tonight before the vows are said in public." Then she kissed his lips, this time more sweetly than passionately. "You are such a good man, Hannibal Heyes, and I'm such a lucky woman."

He laughed. "No, it's the other way around." Then they were more playing with and teasing one another as they pulled their garments back into place and said their final "I love yous" before calling it a night.

"I'll knock on the door in the morning when the Kid and I are up to be sure you're fine and ready to go."

"I expect to be awake early. I'm not sure I'll be able to sleep a wink," she said.

"Me neither, but we need to try. Big day tomorrow, you know." He laughed.

"Yes, I know, Mr. Heyes. Then they were both standing at the door taking a last chaste kiss before saying "Good night" and going to separate rooms for the last time.

Heyes opened the door and whispered, "I love you," before closing it and turning to his own room.

The Kid was already in bed, his gray suit laid out for the next day. When Heyes came in, he was a bit startled. "Thought you and Cashie might go ahead and spend the night over there," he said.

Heyes took off his shirt and boots and shook his head. "We talked about it, but decided to hold off until the ceremony is over with and we're legally married. It just didn't seem right after all the trust these people have put in us. And what's one more night going to matter anyhow?"

The Kid let out a sigh. "Guess you're right. Might as well be proper to the end."

Heyes grinned, but didn't look at his partner. "Who said anything about being proper? He chuckled a bit.

The Kid turned over and pulled the covers up. "I don't want to know what that means," he muttered and tried to go to sleep.

Then Heyes blew out the lamp and settled down to try to get some shut-eye himself before his wedding day. Like his bride, he doubted it would be easy.

The next morning, Saturday, Heyes was up rearing to go. He hadn't gotten as much sleep as he would have liked, but he felt it was a decent amount. It was his and Cashie's wedding day, so none of that mattered anyway.

He got dressed in his regular clothes at first. There were things to be done before he would be ready for his best suit. First among them was to check on Cashie and be sure she was up too.

The Kid was lagging behind Heyes just a bit, pulling his boots on, when Heyes went across the hallway and knocked on his fiancé's door. Just as he did, he heard Cashie scream. His first idea was to knock down the door, but things being as they were and them trying to follow every letter of the law, he decided instead to call out to see if she could hear him and find out what the problem was.

It worked, and he heard her call his name. "Honey, let me in," he said anxiously. "What's wrong?"

It took a few moments before Cashie unlocked the door. She looked upset, but Heyes didn't see anyone else in the room. She grabbed his neck and held on for dear life.

"Hold me, Han!" she cried, tears pouring down her cheeks. He picked her up and carried her to the bed where he sat her down beside himself, her arms still clinging to him in fear.

The Kid had heard the commotion and came running over to see what was going on and if there was anything he could do. "What's happened to her?" he asked.

Heyes shook his head, still holding his fiancé and trying to figure out the problem himself. He shushed her gently and rubbed her back, trying to calm her enough so she would tell them what was the matter.

Finally, she was consoled enough to pull back and look at him and the Kid sheepishly.

"What's got you so upset?" Heyes asked.

Cashie blushed, realizing now that she was safe and what had frightened her was not real. "It was just a bad dream, I guess," she answered softly. "But it seemed so real."

"Ah, honey," Heyes said, holding her and rocking her like a little child. "Everything's fine. You know what day this is, don't you?"

"Yes," she answered sheepishly. "Our wedding day."

"That's right," he whispered. "So, everything's fine and we're going to be married this afternoon. Bad dreams have no place bothering either of us today. All right?"

The Kid smiled at his partner, glad that was the only problem they had to worry with this morning. "You're fine, Cash. You know we wouldn't let anyone bother you on such a special day, don't you?"

Cashie felt a bit embarrassed now, but she still wanted Heyes to hold her.

The Kid motioned to his partner that he was going to slip out and let him handle his bride-to-be.

Heyes nodded and kept Cashie tight in his arms. "I'm here," he whispered. "I'm not going anywhere until you feel better. Wanna tell me about this dream you had that's got you so upset?"

She shook her head. "I'm not even sure what it was about. I just needed to know you were all right and feel your arms around me, that's all."

Heyes let out a light laugh. "Well, all you had to do was ask. You didn't have to scream and scare us to death."

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I just wish we could stay here like this forever."

"You're not gonna stand me up at the altar, are you, woman?" Heyes laughed.

His joke brought some levity to the moment, and Cashie pulled away from him, looking into his deep brown eyes and said, "Never," as she shook her head.

"You'd better not," Heyes teased. "After all the time I've waited for this day. And you've got to show me that beautiful wedding dress you've told me so much about. And then there's all the people who are going to be at our wedding. You know you can't disappoint them. It's going to the biggest social function some of them may ever witness in their lives," he ran on mischievously.

"Oh Han, stop it," she laughed and pretended to beat him on the chest. They laughed together until Heyes was sure she was over her fright. Then he kissed her and said, "Happy wedding day."

"Happy wedding day to you, too," she replied.

Then he acted like he'd done something simply horrible. "Oh dear, what have I done!"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, here I am in your room and I thought it was bad luck to see the bride on our wedding day!" he said with pretend horror.

"Oh silly, it's bad luck to see me in my wedding dress before the ceremony, that's all."

"Oh, all right. Thought there for a minute I'd ruined everything."

She gave him another hug and said, "I'm glad to see you and be in your arms this morning. I don't think I could have made it until this afternoon without you."

Heyes felt sure she was fine now, so he got up and said he'd better be on his way tending to groom matters while she needed to get ready to put that beautiful dress on and be at the church on time. "Don't make me have to come lookin' for ya, now," he laughed.

"No way that's gonna happen, Mr. Heyes, now be on your way. I have several things to do myself before Mrs. Obermier and Becky get here to help me get dressed."

Heyes smiled down at her and leaned in for one sweet kiss before saying good-bye. "See you at the church," he whispered and went out the door.

Cashie lay back down on the bed, stretching and trying to forget the awful dream she'd had. Already she could barely remember what had made her so upset. She smiled a smile of anticipation before finally rising to prepare for her wedding day.

The Kid brought over some biscuits and jelly from the restaurant a bit later. He was glad to have a moment for himself with Cashie. They shared a sweet hug filled with love and friendship. "I'm happy for you and Heyes," he said as he held her close. "I've never wanted anything for you except to be happy, Cash."

She smiled at him as she had so many times before. "I know, Kid. You mean so much to me and to Hannibal. You must know that. We owe so much to you."

He smiled and laid his head on hers. "And I owe you both so much too," he whispered. Then he kissed the top of her head and whispered, "Be happy always."

They shared one long glance before the Kid turned and left her alone with her thoughts and to finish getting ready for her marriage to his partner. Once outside her room, he let out a long sigh before going down the stairs to find Heyes so both of them could take care of final matters and get ready themselves.

Soon Mrs. Obermier knocked on the door. She had brought Becky from the restaurant to help with Cashie's preparations, too. The young girl seemed to idolize the former outlaw and was more than happy to help out. Cashie noticed that Mrs. Obermier had a package in her hands. The seamstress handed it to the bride-to-be and said, "My gift to you."

Cashie wasn't expecting anything else from the dear German woman and her surprise showed. "You've done so much already. You didn't have to…"

"I wanted to," was the reply.

Cashie quickly opened the package and found a white crinoline petticoat. "To make dress look fuller," Mrs. Obermier explained.

"Oh, thank you so much," Cashie smiled and gave the woman a hug.

Then she let the seamstress and Becky take over helping her to put on the proper garments one at a time, finally topping them off with the beautiful satin and lace gown Mrs. Obermier had made especially for the young bride.

Next Becky brushed Cashie's hair out in front of the mirrored dresser and proceeded to put it up in a chignon of curls. Finally, they were ready for the headpiece.

"So beautiful," Mrs. Obermier said with tears in her eyes. "You are most beautiful bride, Miss Cashie."

"Thank you," Cashie whispered, trying not to cry herself. "I couldn't have done any of this without you two."

Suddenly there was a knock on the door. Cashie hurried behind the screen in case it was Hannibal, but she was surprised when Mrs. Obermier opened the door and Sheriff Riley stood there in his best suit.

"Sheriff Riley," Cashie said in complete surprise. "Why are you here? Is everything all right?"

The sheriff had his hat in his hands and nodded. "Everything's fine, Missy. I just wanted to come by and be sure everything was all right with you." He looked at her from head to toe, now adorned in the white wedding dress of her dreams. "Looks like that dress fits her to a T, doesn't it, Mrs. Obermier?" he said to the seamstress.

"Oh yes, it is most beautiful, Sheriff Riley," the German woman replied.

Cashie looked at the sheriff with confusion, then she looked at Mrs. Obermier, who was wearing the biggest smile Cashie had ever seen on her face. The seamstress pointed to the sheriff and nodded her head.

Cashie's mouth flew open and her hand came up to cover it. "You mean…he…?" she tried to question but couldn't get the words out. Mrs. Obermier nodded again, profusely.

Cashie turned her attention to the sheriff who had first put her and her companions in jail, had threatened to send them back to Wyoming and later had been nothing but kind and courteous to them, finally testifying in their defense. To think he was responsible for her beautiful wedding dress simply blew her mind.

"You paid for my dress, Sheriff Riley?" she asked incredulously. His huge smile told her the answer was yes. "But…why?" she asked. "Why would you do something so nice for me?"

"Well," the sheriff started, "my late wife and I never had any children, and to be honest, Missy, I've sort of come to…well, to think of you as a…a daughter I never had," he said, big tears welling up in his eyes."

Never in a million years could Cashie have imagined this turn of events. She reached for this dear, darling man and gave him the biggest bear hug any daughter could have ever given a father. "Thank you! Thank you so much," she cried. "You'll never know how much this means to me."

She had to blink hard to keep the tears back once more as she let go of the dear man whom she had actually come to think of in a fatherly way herself.

"Now don't go messing up that beautiful face," the sheriff said. "That groom of yours might be mad at me for upsettin' you."

"Never," Cashie laughed. "I can't wait to tell him what you did."

"Well, actually, there's one more thing I'd like to do, if you don't mind," he added.

"Whatever is that?" Cashie asked, wondering what else the sheriff could do to top off his gift of her wedding dress.

"Well, if you don't mind, I'd be honored to walk you down the aisle and give you away to your young fella," came the awesome reply.

Again, Cashie was speechless. She laughed in surprise and sheer joy at the sheriff's request. "And I'd be honored for you to do so," she admitted, following up with yet another hug. "I'm simply overwhelmed at your kindness and that of so many people in this wonderful town."

Cashie had one more visitor after that. Tom Brubaker stopped by with a bouquet of flowers for the bride-to-be. "I thought you'd look lovely carrying them, he said, as he planted a kiss on Cashie's cheek.

"They are so lovely, Mr. Brubaker. Thank you," Cashie said and added, "Oh my, if it weren't for you, none of this would be happening. We'll forever be in your debt."

The young attorney blushed slightly and said in his most humble voice, "Today your debt is paid in full, Miss Malone. All I want is to see you and Mr. Heyes married and happy. That's payment enough. And by the way, you are a beautiful bride."

Then he too had to take a turn as Cashie bestowed a hug and kiss on him as well.

While Cashie was getting ready for the ceremony, Heyes and the Kid had already gotten into their suits. Heyes wore his dark blue suit, while his partner wore his usual gray suit. They had picked up the marriage license and were waiting at the church.

Heyes was a bit nervous and fidgeting just a little. The Kid was trying to do his best man duties and keep the groom calm and steady. "You do have a ring, don't you?" he asked his partner.

"Oh, yeah, I sure do. Got it right here," Heyes replied and pulled a gold ring with a tiny diamond on top from his inside pocket. "Here, you're supposed to keep it for me until the minister tells me to put it on Cashie's finger."

Kid looked at the small but beautiful ring. "Nice," he said as he put it in his vest pocket. "How'd you manage it?"

"Would you believe Mr. Groover?" Heyes said with a laugh.

"Your boss, Mr. Groover?"

"Yeah," Heyes nodded. "He said I could pay some on it out of my weekly earnings until it was all paid for. Can you believe that?"

The Kid laughed too, remembering how hostile the mercantile owner had been the first day they'd met to find some new clothes. Now Heyes was not only working for the man but he'd been able to get Cashie a nice ring on credit.

"I gotta admit, Heyes, your gut feeling about this town was spot on. I don't ever remember feeling so welcome and liked since, well…since we were little kids back in Kansas."

Heyes nodded, recalling the same memories. "It sure feels good, don't it?"

"Yeah, it does."

About that time, Reverend Finke came into the room where they were waiting to give them an update. He said the church was filled and word was the bride would soon be arriving. He wondered if they had any questions or concerns before the ceremony got started.

Heyes took in a deep breath and blew it out. "Only to say thank you for all your help, Reverend, and to say a prayer for all of us as Cashie and I start this new life as a married couple."

"You can be sure I will," the Reverend said and shook hands with both the groom and best man. "We'll wait here until we hear the strains from the organ. Then I'll lead us out to the sanctuary and you two stand as you are now, and we will watch as your bride walks down the aisle to meet you at the altar, Mr. Heyes. Then simply listen to my words and follow along. It won't be hard at all."

"Moment of truth, Partner," the Kid whispered.

"You sure you got the ring?" Heyes asked in a worried tone.

"Right here in my pocket," he felt for the ring and found it. "Just relax and soon you'll be the happiest man on the planet."

"I surely will," Heyes said adamantly.

Sheriff Riley, Cashie, Mrs. Obermier and Becky walked from the hotel to the little church on the edge of town. The sheriff offered his arm to Cashie, who gladly put her arm through his as he helped her up the steps to the door of the church. Mrs. Obermier and Becky pushed the door open and found their seats. Sheriff Riley looked at Cashie and smiled just before someone gave the nod to the organist to begin playing.

Reverend Finke, Heyes and the Kid walked out to the area in front of the pulpit, then Sheriff Riley and Cashie started down the aisle in time with the music. Cashie found Hannibal's eyes and met them with her own.

The groom was in awe when he saw his beautiful bride walking toward him in the gorgeous white gown and veil. In all his years, he'd never let himself believe that they could be married in a church with friends smiling and Cashie wearing such a beautiful wedding gown. He'd figured perhaps a justice of the peace and a simple but lovely dress, but all of this was beyond his wildest dreams.

Heyes couldn't stop smiling. Neither could Cashie as the distance between them grew shorter. When she reached the front of the church, Cashie reached over to whisper into her groom's ear, "Sheriff Riley paid for the dress." She simply couldn't wait to tell him her wonderful news. Heyes was surprised, then his face broke into an even larger grin as he looked up at Sheriff Riley and mouthed "Thank you" to the very man who had put them in jail only a little over a month before. The sheriff nodded with a knowing smile.

Then Reverend Finke began the ceremony.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today in front of God and these witnesses to join in the bonds of holy matrimony this man, Hannibal Heyes, and this woman, Margaret Cashilyn Malone. The sacrament of marriage was blessed by the presence of Jesus at the marriage in Cana of Galilee where He performed His first miracle and showed that marriage is pleasing to God and one of the high states of life to which men and women are called.

"Into this holy agreement, these two persons come together to be joined. If any person here can show just cause why this man and this woman should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever more hold your peace."

Cashie and Hannibal kept smiling, thinking surely no one would object. When there was only silence, the reverend continued.

"Who gives this woman to be married to this man?"

"I do," Sheriff Riley spoke up proudly, let go of Cashie's arm and then gave her a sweet kiss on the cheek before sitting down on the second pew. Heyes then came to stand beside his bride.

"Please face one another and join hands," the reverend instructed. They did so, looking deeply into each other's eyes and holding both hands tightly.

"Hannibal Heyes, do you take this woman, Margaret Cashilyn Malone, to be your lawfully wedded wife, and do you promise to love her and cherish her and be faithful unto her as long as you both shall live?"

"I do," Heyes said adamantly so that the entire church could hear him.

"And do you, Margaret Cashilyn Malone, take this man, Hannibal Heyes, to be your lawfully wedded husband, and do you promise to love him and cherish him and be faithful unto him as long as you both shall live?"

Cashie smiled her biggest smile, and said firmly, "I do."

"Now, repeat after me, Mr. Heyes. 'I, Hannibal Heyes, take you, Margaret Cashilyn Malone, to be my wedded wife…'"

Heyes smiled and repeated each phrase as it was said to him. "I, Hannibal Heyes, take you, Margaret Cashilyn Malone, to be my wedded wife…"

"…to have and to hold from this day forward…"

"…for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health…"

"…and I promise to love, cherish and comfort you, till death do us part, according to God's holy ordinance…"

"…and thereto I pledge thee my faith."

Reverend Finke turned to Cashie. "Repeat after me, Miss Malone: 'I, Margaret Cashilyn Malone, take you, Hannibal Heyes, to be my wedded husband…'"

Cashie smiled and said the words steadily as they were given to her: "I, Margaret Cashilyn Malone, take you, Hannibal Heyes, to be my wedded husband…"

"…to have and to hold from this day forward…"

"…for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health…"

"…and I promise to love, cherish and comfort you, till death do us part, according to God's holy ordinance…"

"…and thereto I pledge thee my faith."

There was a magic between the couple that was almost palpable as they spoke their vows one to another. Everyone could clearly see the love and commitment in their eyes and through the expressions on their faces.

Finally, the minister asked if there was a ring. Heyes looked at the Kid for his cue.

"Oh, yeah," the Kid muttered as he pulled the lovely ring from his vest pocket and handed it to Heyes with a smile.

Cashie knew nothing about the ring, so when she saw it she gasped slightly and tears filled her eyes as her groom held it for her to see. "It's beautiful" she whispered to him.

"Please place the ring on the fourth finger of your bride's left hand and repeat after me: 'With this ring, I thee wed and with all my worldly goods I thee endow.'"

Heyes placed the ring carefully on Cashie's finger as he was instructed and repeated, "With this ring, I thee wed and with all my worldly goods I thee endow."

The ring fit perfectly, and Heyes lifted Cashie's hand now wearing the ring to his lips and kissed it. She smiled proudly at him.

Reverend Finke then said, "What God has joined together, let no man put asunder. Now by the power invested in me by the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, and the State of Nebraska, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride, Mr. Heyes."

Hannibal didn't waste any time. He pulled Cashie to him and kissed her as passionately as he dared in a house of God and before a whole congregation of people. Reverend Finke, the Kid and several of the witnesses laughed quietly the longer the kiss went on.

When they finally parted, the minister said, "I now present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Hannibal Heyes."

Several cheers went up, and Hannibal and Cashie set off with another kiss before turning and facing the congregation, still holding hands, now at last joined legally in the holy bonds of matrimony.

They were just about to start down the aisle, when Reverend Finke had one more announcement to make.

"I've been asked to inform the bride and groom, as well as the congregants, that there will be a reception immediately following in the restaurant down the street. Many of the town ladies have brought delicious dishes to feed the wedding party and their well-wishers. Everyone is invited!"

It was one final surprise for the couple. Their mouths flew open then turned to more smiles as they realized this final blessing that the people of Martinsburg had bestowed upon them, without their knowledge, to help make this day more wonderful than they could have ever dreamed.

"Oh my, this is just too much to take in," Cashie said to Hannibal as they walked slowly down the aisle, so in love and feeling so blessed to have this town treat them as family. It was the best day of their lives.


	9. The World Turned Upside Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A beautiful wedding day takes a turn for the worst.

It was a beautiful Nebraskan day. February could be cold as ice with several feet of snow or there could be days with highs in the 50s when you could almost swear spring was around the corner. This was one of the latter, with the sun shining brightly and barely any wind to speak of. It could not have been a more perfect day for a wedding.

As they reached the doorway of the church, Mr. and Mrs. Hannibal Heyes stood, still holding hands. Then they turned to the side and waited patiently as most of the congregation filed through the door one at a time and wished the happy couple their best before heading on to the restaurant. Many of the women had dishes they needed to prepare for the feast that was ahead.

The last persons to come through the receiving line were Sheriff Riley, the Kid and Reverend Finke. The sheriff gave his "daughter" another hug and shook Heyes' hand saying he'd better "take care of my girl." Heyes assured him he would.

The Kid flashed a huge smile at his partner and gave him a bear hug. Then he gently hugged Cashie with a tenderness that bespoke the love between the two of them and gave her a sweet kiss on the cheek.

"Finally, the two of you can be together and be happy. I love you both so much," he said.

Then it was a three-way hug with lots of sniffles, as they all knew it was both the beginning of something wonderful but also the ending. Only God knew what the future held for the three former outlaws who had been so close for so many years.

The Kid walked on out the church, leaving only the reverend to say a final blessing to the happy couple. Then Mrs. Obermier brought a beautiful cloak to drape around Cashie's shoulders as they walked to the restaurant for the surprise reception. The woman thought of everything!

Hannibal helped drape the cloak around Cashie and tied the bow so her beautiful white gown could show underneath. Then they linked arms and walked slowly and carefully down the steps so as not to snag her dress or trip over the train.

Once they reached the street, there was a photographer from the newspaper in Lincoln who had heard about the trial and ensuing wedding. He asked if he could take a photograph of the happy couple and promised to make them a copy for a keepsake. Both agreed and they smiled happily as they posed for the photograph. Then Heyes kissed his bride once more, which the photographer was also glad to photograph.

"I love you, Mrs. Heyes," the groom said to his wife.

"I love you, Mr. Heyes," was her reply.

The street was clear and clean, without a trace of mud, thankfully. The couple decided they'd best get to their own reception, so they began to walk casually toward the restaurant. They were so caught up in their love and happiness that there didn't seem to be any other world outside the two of them. But as they came closer to the restaurant, the outside world broke through.

Deputy Wentworth came walking toward the couple, with a menacing look on his face. He was clearly in a bad way. Sheriff Riley had left him on duty while everyone attended the wedding and the sheriff walked Cashie down the aisle.

The deputy had said little to the three former outlaws since he'd apologized to Cashie for his crude words at the time he had arrested them. They had thought he was on their side from that point on, though he hadn't actually said so much in words. Still, he hadn't given them any reason to believe he wasn't, at least not until now.

"Heyes!" he yelled at the couple to get their attention. "You think you're so special, don't you?"

Hannibal and Cashie turned to look at the deputy coming toward them. They could tell he'd been drinking some by the slurring of his words. But his tone was unmistakable. He was not happy, not one bit.

"What's the problem, deputy?" Heyes asked, trying to diffuse the situation. "Can't you see we just got married?" He flashed an uneasy smile.

"Oh yeah, I see," the deputy came back. "I see the whole town's fell in love with you two. Give ya amnesty and throw ya a big weddin' and all. An' I see I got no reward, no raise, no nothin' while you get all the glory. That's what I see."

Heyes was suddenly very aware that neither he nor Cashie had their guns. He looked around, and the street was deserted all but for himself, his bride and the drunk deputy. He figured the only way to diffuse the situation was by talking, and talking loudly in hopes someone would hear and come to their rescue.

"Wentworth!" he yelled as loud as he could. "We don't want no trouble. We're sorry about the reward, but we'd be glad to put in a good word for ya with the sheriff. Ain't that right, Cashie?"

His wife picked up on where her husband was going with this. "Yes, we would!" she yelled as loudly as she could without it being a scream. "We're grateful to you for bringing us back to Martinsburg!"

Their strategy seemed to be working. All the shouting had gotten some attention inside the restaurant and soon the Kid, Sheriff Riley and a few others came out the door to the restaurant to see what all the noise was about and why the bride and groom hadn't made it to their own reception.

"Wentworth!" the sheriff yelled at his deputy. "What's the matter with you, man? Leave them be and let's all come get some supper. There's plenty of food just waitin' over here."

Cashie and Heyes stood still, their arms still linked, waiting to see if the deputy would calm down. They were disappointed.

"Yeah, well, Sheriff, all you ever wanted me to do it seemed like was fetch food for these three outlaws. Once I brung 'em in, you didn't have another good word for me, just tellin' me how I'd better not speak bad to 'em again, better show 'em respect. They's nothin' but thieves, sheriff, and this town done made 'em heroes or sumpin'. It ain't right, and I got no reward, no raise. All I got was shit."

"You're drunk, man. Put that gun down and stop this right now!" the sheriff ordered.

The Kid wasn't packing his Colt either. There hadn't been any need, at least that's what everyone thought. But this situation didn't look good. Wentworth sounded like an angry, envious man who felt he'd been shorted. The Kid had a bad feeling about all this.

Luckily Sheriff Riley had worn his gun, although he'd tried to hide it under his coat. But now he pulled his coat back so the deputy and everyone else involved could see he did have a weapon. Still, he hoped he wouldn't have to use it.

"Wentworth, I'm sorry about that. You've been a good deputy. It's my fault for not tellin' you so. And we can talk about a raise. Sure we can. Just let these folks go on to their weddin' reception, and you and me, we'll talk about it."

Heyes and Cashie watched this exchange back and forth between the sheriff and the deputy. They knew the Kid was watching but had no gun, just as they didn't have any guns. They held their breath and prayed the sheriff could get through to Wentworth.

"Naw, I cain't do that, sheriff. It ain't right. It just ain't right to let 'em go free."

"But the judge said…" Riley began, but the deputy cut him off.

"Don't care what the judge said. Don't care what you say no more, sheriff. A man's gotta do what's right by the law, and you done forgot about the law!"

"This ain't right, neither, Wentworth. You know it ain't. You let them people go."

"Sorry, sheriff," the drunken deputy said, and with that he pointed the pistol toward Heyes and Cashie and set off three shots.

Heyes threw himself in front of Cashie and pushed her down to the ground. Two of the bullets missed, but one hit him directly in the chest. He gasped and staggered back a few steps as Sheriff Riley fired at his deputy, taking him down as well.

Cashie screamed "No!" when she realized what Heyes was doing, and the Kid took off running when he heard the shots. Heyes fell onto the ground, laying on his back, gasping for breath. Cashie scrambled over to him, screaming "No, Han!" as she reached his side. "No, No!" she kept saying as tears filled her eyes. "No, Han, don't leave me."

Heyes' brown eyes found hers, and he struggled to speak. "We made it," he said with that beautiful grin of his. "I love you."

Cashie held his head between her hands, tears running down her cheeks. "I love you, Hannibal. Don't you dare leave me. Please stay with me." She kissed him and wiped away some blood that had splattered on his face.

The Kid had reached them, but he couldn't believe the sight he found. Heyes' white shirt was covered in blood, he looked so pale, and Cashie was leaned over him, trying to cradle his head in her hands, crying her heart out. He froze, not knowing what he could do to help either one of them.

Then Heyes managed to reach one hand and pull Cashie down to him and whispered something in her ear. She pulled back and cried again, "No, no, don't leave me, please don't leave me!"

But it was done. Heyes closed his eyes and his head slumped backwards in one final movement. Then he was still. Cashie kept screaming "No!" and the Kid felt tears running down his cheeks too. He knew his friend, his partner, his cousin was gone.

Sheriff Riley had first made sure that Wentworth could do no more harm. He kicked his gun into the street and cuffed the former deputy, who wasn't dead, only wounded. He cuffed the man behind his back and asked one of the townspeople, who had all come running out of the restaurant by now, to "take this piece of crap to the jail." Then he ran to where Heyes, Cashie and the Kid were to see how bad things were. It took only a moment to realize Wentworth had done his worst.

Dr. Martin came over to where Heyes lay. Cashie cried, "Help him, please!" The doctor felt his neck and listened to his heart, then shook his head. Everyone stood around watching, horrified by what had happened.

Finally, the Kid came to his senses and reached down for Cashie. "He's gone, Cash," he said through his tears. "You gotta let him go."

But she fought him and pulled away, laying her body against her dead husband's, her cheek against his as her tears fell upon his lifeless body. Her body shook with sobs and she wouldn't be consoled.

Sheriff Riley reached out and took her arm, looked at the Kid and nodded. "You gotta let him go, Missy," he said.

Kid took hold of Cashie's other arm, and together they pulled her off Heyes, the sound of her sobs tearing their hearts out. The Kid wrapped her in his arms, letting her sobs fall onto his chest, while his own tears fell into her beautiful brown curls.

By this time the undertaker had made his way into the midst, but he didn't dare come closer. He knew to give the loved ones their moment to grieve. His work would come later after they had left.

Sheriff Riley brushed his own tears away, looked at Heyes' lifeless body and then at the Kid holding on for dear life to Cashie. "You need to get her back to the hotel," he said to Curry. "You take care of her," then he looked back at Heyes' body, "and we'll take care of him."

Kid looked up through tear-filled eyes at the sheriff and then at his lifeless friend. He didn't feel he could leave his best friend there in the street.

Sensing his anxiety, the sheriff said, "I promise, Son. We'll take good care of him. Now you go take care of her."

The Kid nodded, knowing the sheriff was right. There was nothing he could do for Heyes, but he had to take care of Cashie. He was all she had now, and she was all he had. In one fell swoop, he pulled himself together, picked her up in his arms and started walking towards the hotel.

The sheriff nodded at the undertaker, Mr. Mortimer, and together they got some men to take Heyes' body over to his establishment. They laid the body on a table, and the sheriff said, "Clean him up real good. And have Mr. Groover get him a clean shirt. Then I want him put in the best coffin you got."

"Yes, Sheriff," the undertaker replied. "Only the finest I have for Mr. Heyes."

Sheriff Riley looked at the man's lifeless body once more and swore under his breath before heading over to the jail to check on Wentworth. He found Carl Loomis and a few other fellows waiting for him.

"Thanks, boys," he greeted them. "He give you any problems?"

"Hateful as all git up," Loomis answered. "Never expected him doin' something' like this."

"Me neither," the sheriff muttered. "Wish to God that I had. Heyes might still be alive and his missus not cryin' her eyes out." He shook his head. He could hear Wentworth bellowing from behind the door to the jail cell.

"I hereby deputize you, Loomis," he said before marching towards the rowdy prisoner and throwing open the door. "Shut the hell up, Wentworth!" he shouted.

"I'm bleedin'. I need a doctor," the prisoner said, still sounding drunk.

"I don't care if you bleed to death, you sorry piece of excuse for a human bein'. You'll hang for this. I promise you," he said and then slammed the door shut again.

"Keep an eye on him," he said to Loomis. "I got some other matters to see to," then he walked out and closed the door.

His next stop was to find Doc Martin and ask him to go to the hotel to see what he could do for Cashie. They walked there together, neither saying a word. When they got to Cashie's room, Sheriff Riley knocked quietly.

"Come on in," he heard the Kid say in a soft tone.

The sheriff opened the door and found Curry seated on the end of the bed, still holding onto Cashie, who was sobbing her heart out still. The Kid was hushing and rubbing her back, but she wouldn't be consoled. He looked pitifully over at the sheriff as if to say, "What can I do?"

"I brought Doc Martin with me. Maybe he can give her somethin' to calm her down."

The doctor nodded and brought out a bottle and a spoon from his coat pocket. "Try to get a couple of tablespoons of this in her," he said. "It should make her calm down and hopefully drift off to sleep for a bit. He handed it to the Kid, who took it with one hand, his other still cradling Cashie.

"Laudanum?" Kid read aloud, his brow furrowed with concern.

"It'll do the trick, the doc said. "No more than two tablespoons now."

The kid nodded and tried to push Cashie away from him. "Take some of this, Cash," he said softly, but she shook her head.

Then she looked up at the sheriff and doctor, tears running down her cheeks and asked, "Why?" When no one answered, she screamed the word this time. "Why! Why did God let this happen? Why did he bring us here and let us get married only to have that stupid deputy kill my husband? Why?"

Sheriff Riley sat down beside her while the Kid got up and opened the bottle of laudanum and poured a couple of tablespoons into a glass. "I don't know why, Missy," the sheriff said patting her arm and then holding it tightly as Kid grabbed her other arm and brought the glass of medicine towards her.

"No, I don't want that!" she screamed and fidgeted, but they had a tight hold on her so she couldn't push away.

The Kid looked into her tearful eyes, his own full of tears as well, and said, "Please, Cash. Take this. Please, for Heyes' sake, and for me."

She let out a few more sobs, then realized he was trying to help her. She stopped fighting and let him bring the glass to her mouth, and she drank it down with a horrible face.

The sheriff let go of her arm and stood up while the Kid took his place back beside her and pulled her to him, saying, "That a girl. Now just try to relax and go to sleep."

She soon seemed calmer. All three men kept watch to make sure the medicine worked. The sheriff whispered something to the doctor, who soon left. It wasn't long before they could tell Cashie was almost asleep. Kid gently laid her down on the bed and placed a quilt over her. She only moaned slightly as he did so.

"What am I going to do?" the Kid said to himself as well as the sheriff.

"You're gonna take of her, Son, and we're all gonna help you do it," Riley answered him.

About that time the doctor came back with a bottle of whiskey and a couple of shot glasses. He sat them down on the small table in the room.

"Thanks, Doc," the sheriff said. Then he looked over at the Kid. "This is for you. You've got to take care of yourself if you're gonna take care of her." He poured a couple of glasses full, handed one to the Kid and kept the other for himself. "Here. Drink up."

The Kid was glad to feel the hard whiskey burn his throat going down.

"Take another one," the sheriff told him, and he drank it too. "She needs to rest and you need to calm your nerves too." He downed his own glass. "We've all been through somethin' horrible today, and we need all the strength we can get from anywhere or anything."

The Kid nodded.

About that time Reverend Finke came in to check on his newest parishioners. He was glad to find Mrs. Heyes asleep, with Mr. Curry, the sheriff and the doctor all keeping vigil.

"Is there anything I can do?" he asked, but no one said a word.

"She wants to know why?" the Kid finally said, his voice sounding calmer since he downed the whiskey. "Why did this happen? Why after they'd just got married and were so happy? Do you know, Reverend, 'cause I don't have a clue?"

Reverend Finke let out a deep, deep sigh. "I'm afraid I don't either, Mr. Curry. I'm as broken over today's events as anyone else. I'm trying to hold onto my faith as well. We know the Lord works in mysterious ways, but I'd be the first to say this is one mystery I have no answer for, not even a guess."

The Kid turned his attention back to Cashie. She was sleeping peacefully now, her breathing even and strong. But he knew it would last only until the laudanum wore off. She still had on the wedding gown, now stained with her husband's blood. He reached over and gently pulled the headpiece away from her and laid it on the table. It too was blood stained.

Sheriff Riley took note and realized what had to be done. "We need to get that dress off her before she wakes up. Last thing she needs to see is that beautiful wedding gown all covered in his blood."

Everyone nodded in agreement.

"Reverend, why don't you see if you can find Mrs. Obermier and Becky and have them come over here and help get her out of that dress," the sheriff suggested.

"I surely will," the minister said and hurried out. He soon returned with the dutiful Mrs. Obermier and friend Becky, both of whose eyes were red from their own crying.

"Oh, Miss Cashie," the German woman said tearfully. "So, so sorry."

Then she ushered all the men out of the room. Together she and Becky sat Cashie up enough to unbutton and untie the dress and pull it over her head. They also untied the crinoline petticoat and then put Cashie's simpler flowered dress she had first gotten from Mrs. Obermier's store on the young bride, now a widow. Cashie moaned a bit as they juggled her around, but when they were finished she drifted back off to sleep.

"You come in now," Mrs. Obermier informed the men who had been waiting in the hallway.

"Thank you, ma'am," the Kid said as he took his place back on the bed, sitting and watching over Cashie.

He looked at every man and the two women in the room who had been such a help to him during the past hour since Heyes was killed. He wanted to thank them but couldn't find the words. He didn't need to. They all silently understood his pain and his thanks.

"They've turned the reception into a wake," the reverend said. "There's plenty of food for you and Miss…Mrs. Heyes, he said.

"You probably need to eat something, Son," the sheriff added. "And to get somethin' in her too, if you can, when she wakes up."

"I'm not hungry," Kid answered, so unusual for him.

But the sheriff would not hear of it. "I'm gonna get you some food brought up and you're gonna eat a little somethin', if not now then later on," he said emphatically.

"I'll try," the Kid whispered.

The reverend and the doctor left first. Mrs. Obermier said to send for her if there was anything else she could do, and she and Becky left also. Then it was just the Kid and Sheriff Riley watching over the sleeping widow.

Kid left the bed and sat in the rocking chair, rocking back and forth. He kept going over the scene in his head, but this time he had his gun with him and instead of Heyes being dead it was Wentworth by the Kid's own hand. He wished to God he could go back in time and have his Colt with him, then his friend wouldn't be dead and Cashie wouldn't be a widow, lying on that bed doped up with the laudanum. His thoughts were interrupted by Sheriff Riley.

"I know what you're thinkin'. Same thing as me, I'd bet. That you'd killed Wentworth first before…"

"You got that right, Sheriff. If only I'd had my gun with me," he said shaking his head.

"If only I'd shot him before…" Riley added. "I'll see to it he hangs."

"You better hang him before I kill him, Sheriff."

"No, you stay on the right side of the law, Curry. I'll take care of that bastard. You need to take care of her, that's all."

The Kid knew he was right. "Deal," he said in a low tone.

Then someone came in with a couple of platefuls of food, some lemonade and a pie. The sheriff instructed where to put them and then said to the Kid, "Now git on over there and eat you somethin'. I'm not leavin' till you do."

The Kid let out a long sigh, looked over at the sheriff and said, "You're a hard ass, you know that, Sheriff."

It was the first time Sheriff Riley had laughed or even smiled since the shooting. "You bet I am when it comes to taking care of you and that lady right yonder," he said pointing to Cashie.

The Kid managed a smile, got up and moved to the table. He found some fried chicken and set into a couple of bites. "You satisfied now," he asked the sheriff, who nodded and shared a slight smile.

The Kid handed him a drumstick. "Here, you look hungry too," and the sheriff bit into it.

They shared most of a plate and a couple of glasses of lemonade before the sheriff decided he needed to be on his way for now.

"I'll have some people coming by to see if you need anything," he assured the Kid. "And like I told you, we're taking care of Mr. Heyes. I gave the undertaker specific instructions. Nothin' but the best. 'Course you and the missy will have to make some arrangements about the burial. There's a nice cemetery near the church.

"And I'll be sending some telegrams to your friend, Mr. Trevors, and the governors of Nebraska and Wyoming. Damned if that governor hadn't better get off his stick and grant the two of you that amnesty. I'm mighty angry at that man for not doin' it sooner."

"Yeah," the Kid agreed. "Maybe none of this would have happened."

"Well, you know where to find me," the sheriff said and pulled the door to behind him.

Now it was just the Kid and Cashie. And that's the only way it could be now that Heyes was dead.

Sometime later, Kid turned down the oil lamp so that it cast a nice, soft glow, just enough light in case Cashie woke up or they had to get up for some reason. He slipped off his boots and laid down on the bed beside her. Even though she was asleep, still under the influence of the laudanum, he needed someone to hold onto, to share his own grief with.

He sidled over to where she lay under the covers and molded his body around hers, in the fetal position, his right hand resting on her arm. Then he tucked his head into the quilt that covered her and soon the tears began to flow. He didn't want to wake her, he simply needed a body to cling to, someone who knew and loved Heyes the way he did. It wasn't long before sobs racked his body as he let all the grief and pain he'd been holding back all day flow out in gushes.

Unawares, Reverend Finke had been sent by the sheriff to check on Mr. Curry and the newly married and widowed Mrs. Heyes. When he came to the door of the room and started to knock, he noticed it was not completely shut. Evidently, the sheriff had not pulled it to as hard as he thought, or else he purposefully left it open so as to keep an eye on the grievers. Either way, the reverend could see that Mr. Curry was curled around the sleeping widow, and he could hear his sobs.

The reverend deigned not to bother the man in his time of utter grief, but instead said a prayer for both of the deceased man's loved ones. Before he turned to leave, though, he thought how very much like his nickname the former outlaw looked: only a kid with a huge burden thrust upon his shoulders. Then the reverend left to report to Sheriff Riley and the doctor.

Later on, the Kid evidently had cried himself to sleep. But he came wide awake when he heard Cashie moaning and thrashing beside him. He raised up to see if she was awake or having a dream.

Her eyes were still closed, so maybe she was dreaming. He could only imagine about what. Soon she screamed "No!" and started fighting at the covers. He shook her gently and called her name until the dream was gone and she opened her eyes. She stared at him as if he were a stranger and she had no idea where she was.

"It's all right, Cash. I'm here. Nobody's gonna hurt you. I promise."

"Where…am I?" she asked, looking around the room. "What happened?"

"You're in your room at the hotel," he said softly. "You've been sleepin' a good while."

"How…why…" She looked at him with confusion all over her face. "Where's Hannibal? Why…"

He realized she had lost time, was confused, perhaps didn't even remember the events that had brought her here. "What do you remember?" he asked.

"The wedding. Han and me got married, and it was wonderful, and I wore this beautiful wedding dress…" She felt for the gown she'd been married in and realized it was gone. Then something akin to terror flashed over her eyes.

"Where's my dress?" she said with tears in her eyes. "And where's Han? Where's my husband, Kid? Why are you…" She searched his eyes to find the answers she knew but didn't want to believe.

"Cashie…" He couldn't say it to her, couldn't confirm what her eyes were asking. "Do you remember walking down the street with Heyes?"

She looked wildly around at nothing in the room, only the pictures in her head. She shook her head no and then said, "We were in the church. We were married, and we were happy. No, I want to stay in the church. I don't want to go outside. I don't...I want to stay in the church with Han." She closed her eyes hard trying to force that beautiful memory to become reality."

"I know you do," the Kid said, tears in his eyes. "I want you to stay there, both of you. I wish…"

His words trailed off, and he pulled her to him as much as possible through the quilt. He wished he could spare her the awful memory of the truth, if only for a short time.

But it was too late. She couldn't hold the memory at bay. It was too fresh. "No, no, no…" she repeated over and over. "It can't be. It can't be. No, no!" she cried as the sobs took her over.

The Kid held her as tightly as possible and whispered, "I'm so sorry."

They cried together until there were no more tears left inside them. Then they lay in silence, still gripped in pain and grief, but having neither tears nor words to voice them. Gradually they drifted back off to sleep.


	10. Requiem for a Good Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A beautiful wedding is followed by a moving funeral.

It was Sheriff Riley who woke them later that morning. He knew there were things they needed to talk about, decisions to be made. He prayed Cashie, whom he had affectionately begun to call "Missy," would be able to think clearly enough and be calm enough to help make those decisions. They had to bury Heyes, and soon. It would be a pure shame if his widow wasn't able to be there to say her final good-bye.

He knocked lightly on the door, even though he knew from what Reverend Finke had told him it wasn't completely shut. The sound roused the Kid, who got up and walked over to speak with the sheriff at the door, keeping their tones low so as not to disturb the sleeping Cashie.

"How is she?" the sheriff wanted to know. "And how are you?"

The Kid rubbed his head and wiped the tears and sleep from his eyes before answering.

"She slept most of the night, but woke up a few hours ago, I think. She didn't seem to remember what happened after the wedding, at least not at first. Then when she did, she set in to sobbin' again. Truth is, we both did."

He shook his head and looked up into the kindly sheriff's face. "Why couldn't it 'ave been me instead of him?"

The sheriff narrowed his eyes. "Don't talk like that, Son. It won't do no good. We cain't change what is. We just got to try to move on and make the best of it."

He put his hand on the man's shoulder to steady him. "I brought you some breakfast and some coffee. You've both got to eat, and then we've got some things to talk about. You understand that, right?"

The Kid nodded. He figured he knew what "things" the sheriff meant, but he wasn't eager to get to them. He opened the door and led the sheriff into the room, taking the bag of food and setting it down on the table. The sheriff sat two large cups of coffee down as well.

"You have to give her any more laudanum?" the sheriff asked.

The Kid shook his head. "Not yet. I hope I don't have to. I've heard that's nasty stuff, can get into your system and take you over."

"Yeah, well, that's why the doc wants to oversee the situation, just give her enough to get by and then wean her off it as soon as she's able."

Kid found a biscuit and some jam in the paper bag and forced himself to eat some. He knew if he didn't, Riley would be on his case like the night before. "Appreciate the food," he nodded to the man.

"No problem. The restaurant took all the food people had brought and is keeping it in the icebox until someone needs it. The whole town is behind you and Missy."

"And we do appreciate it. Never had so much kindness shown to us before."

"That's what I figured," Riley replied. "Get used to it." He managed a slight smile, as did the Kid in return.

They were interrupted by moans and low cries from Cashie, who seemed to be waking up. Kid immediately put down his food and went to her. "Hey, Cash," he said softly. "I'm here."

She opened her eyes, this time not dreaming or as confused. The laudanum was wearing off, and she seemed to be livid enough to know where she was and why Kid was there instead of her husband. She didn't say anything until she looked around the room and saw that Sheriff Riley was sitting at the table. "Sheriff?"

"Hey there, Missy. We've been quite worried about ya. Doc Martin gave you some medicine last night to help you sleep."

Cashie reached for the Kid to help her sit up. She looked down and saw she was wearing her new dress instead of her wedding gown. "Where's…" she began, but Kid answered, knowing exactly what she was wondering about.

"Mrs. Obermier and Becky came over last night and took it. She's going to clean it and get it back to you."

"Oh," was all she said, nodding.

"You need to eat a little somethin' and drink some coffee," Kid explained, "then we need to talk some things over with the sheriff."

Cashie seemed to understand what was said to her, but she had nothing to say in return. Kid pulled the quilt back, and helped her move her legs over the side of the bed.

"I need…" she began again, and he instinctively knew what she needed.

"Sheriff, could you give her a minute," he said and nodded toward the screen where the chamber pot was.

"Oh sure," the lawman said, catching his meaning and scrambling to his feet and out the door in no time.

The Kid helped Cashie stand, figuring she might be a bit wobbly after the laudanum. She was, so he helped her over to the screen. "You got it?" he asked, and she nodded. "Sure?" She nodded again, so he left the room and joined the sheriff in the hall.

"You're good with her," the sheriff had to admit. "And she needs you now more than ever."

"Well, we go back a long ways, me and her and…" He stopped, couldn't say the other name. It was as if a part of him were missing too. He scratched his neck and tried to cover.

"I know," Sheriff Riley said without any judgment in his voice.

Soon Cashie opened the door and let the two men back in the room. She sat down at the end of the bed, and the Kid sat back down at the table. He offered her a biscuit.

"Try to eat a little bit of this," he encouraged her.

She took the food, but didn't immediately do anything except hold it in her hands.

"You need some nourishment, Missy," the sheriff said to her.

Cashie looked into his eyes and then back at the biscuit. She didn't fight him or the Kid, just brought the biscuit to her mouth and took a bite. Her hands were shaking, but she managed about half of the biscuit before handing it back to the Kid.

"That's real good, Cash," he said. Then he took the cup of coffee and held it to her lips so she could take a sip. He figured her hands weren't steady enough to hold it on her own.

When he and the sheriff were satisfied she'd taken as much nourishment as she would, the sheriff said, "I need to know your wishes, about your husband, I mean."

Cashie's head perked up at the word "husband." She had barely had time to register that word in her psyche before he had been senselessly taken from her. She looked at the sheriff and then the Kid and then back to the sheriff.

"Where is he?" she wanted to know.

"We took real good care of him, I promise you. We cleaned him up, got him a new white shirt, and I told the undertaker to use his best...for him. Only the best."

Cashie looked away, not wanting to believe what she was hearing, yet understanding what the sheriff was trying to say to her: Only the best for her Hannibal. She nodded.

"I talked to Mr. Curry about burying him in the cemetery near the church. Would that be agreeable with you?"

Cashie remembered seeing the cemetery when she'd walked to the church before the wedding, never dreaming she'd have need of it so soon. "That's fine," she whispered.

"All right," the sheriff said. "Now, we need to set the time for this afternoon. Don't matter to me or anyone else. Whenever you feel like it."

Cashie didn't want to think about it. She didn't want to be having this conversation. She shouldn't be having this conversation. She and Hannibal should be waking up from their first night as husband and wife and be deliriously happy, having spent the night making love in every way and being completely one with each other at last. And why the hell didn't they go ahead and do that the night before the wedding because now they never would, never would have the children they'd wanted, never would grow old together, and it was all so unfair.

She broke down in sobs once more, and Kid wasted no time in surrounding her in his arms, trying to comfort her again before she got lost in her grief once more. He looked over at the sheriff then tipped his head toward the bottle and spoon the doctor had left the night before.

Sheriff Riley quickly got it and looked to the Kid for instruction. "Just one," he whispered, and the sheriff poured only one tablespoon into the spoon and then into the glass on the table. He handed it to the Kid.

"Drink this, Cash," he said softly as he brought the glass to her lips.

She didn't fight him this time, knowing now that the awful medicine would help bring some relief from the horrible pain she felt inside.

Once she'd drunk the small amount, Kid held her tightly. He looked up at the sheriff and said, "Four o'clock maybe. That sound all right with you?"

The sheriff nodded. He picked up his hat and stood to leave, then turned back with one more thought. "I believe Mrs. Obermier may be coming by with something for Missy."

"Thanks, Sheriff," the Kid said and turned his attention back to Cashie as the sheriff went out the door, closing it all the way this time.

Cashie didn't fall asleep this time, but the medicine did calm her down enough that she wasn't crying constantly. Mrs. Obermier showed up a few hours later with another dress for her. This time it was black, complete with a veil.

Both Cashie and the Kid were surprised by this gesture. They knew it was a tradition, but neither of them was ready to accept the reality it implied.

"No," Cashie told the German woman. "I won't wear it. I can't."

"I know how you feel," the seamstress said, sitting and taking the younger woman into her arms. "I too lost husband much too soon."

Cashie had no idea, but even that news did not make her any less adamant about not wearing a widow's garb this soon after wearing a wedding dress. It was unthinkable in her mind.

"He wouldn't want this!" she shouted at the woman. "He wouldn't." Then she looked at the Kid as if for advice. "Would he?"

It wasn't anything the Kid had ever thought of or anything he and Heyes had ever talked about that he could recall. So, all he had to go on was his own instincts.

"I don't know, Cash. Honestly, I don't. Whatever you want to do is fine by me, and I don't think Heyes would mind either. If you don't want to wear it, don't."

"Then I refuse," she said with her old sense of flair and determination. "This dress is fine. It's the one you first gave me, and Han loved it. I felt so special in it after all the sadness we'd gone through. He loved it, and I won't wear black just because somebody thinks I must. I've never done what other people wanted me to, and I won't start now!"

Mrs. Obermier couldn't help but admire Cashie's spitfire and independent streak, especially now in the time of her grief. She nodded and left, taking the black dress and veil with her.

The Kid smiled at his friend, his partner, the only family he had left.

"Now there's the Cashie Malone I know. The one who rode into Devil's Hole and turned our lives upside down. The woman Heyes fell so head over heels in love with." He cradled her in his arms and kissed the top of her head. Then he pulled back and considered her eyes, so blue like his own. "You wear whatever you want. I told the sheriff four o'clock. Is that good with you?"

She nodded, trying to hold things together at least until they could get through with this day and get the love of her life buried.

The Kid had one more question. "Do you want to see him? Before, I mean."

Cashie thought about it only briefly before replying, "Yes. I think I have to."

"Fine. We'll go as soon as you're ready. Maybe the sheriff will go as well."

Cashie nodded and pulled away. She looked at herself in the dresser mirror and saw how distraught and unkept she appeared.

"Hand me that brush," she asked Kid, and he did. She began to brush her untidy hair, taking down what little was left of the chignon from the day before. When her hands began to shake, Kid took the brush and finished it. When all the tangles were out, he laid the brush down and they both looked at themselves in the mirror.

Her hair was down, brushed out and simple, the way she usually wore it. The dress was clean, simple but lovely. She appeared the way she usually had during their years together, beautiful in such a simplistic way, just the way Heyes liked her. The way the Kid liked her, too.

All she would need to attend the burial would be a hat, her coat and some warm gloves. No widow's garb for Cashie Malone, the former outlaw. Not even the loss of her beloved could turn her nature that far around.

"You going to be all right long enough for me to go get my jacket?" the Kid asked. She nodded. "Then I'll be back in a few and we'll go see him," he whispered.

He left the room, but Cashie kept staring at the woman in the mirror, wondering who she would become now that Hannibal Heyes was gone from her life forever.

Soon the Kid came back into Cashie's room wearing the same suit he'd worn to the wedding the day before. It didn't bother her. She'd seen him in that same suit many times before. It didn't particularly scream wedding or funeral to her.

He helped her get her coat on, then her gloves and hat, and they walked out the door, heading for the undertaker's establishment. But first they dropped by the sheriff's office.

Riley was there and glad to see the two of them outside the hotel for the first time since the shooting the day before. He was more than willing to go with them for the viewing, knowing they both needed some support.

When they reached Mr. Mortimer's place, he greeted them sincerely and expressed sorrow for their loss. Then he took them to the room where he worked his magic. The fine wooden coffin lay on a long table with the cover off. He ushered them closer to see the body of their friend and be sure he had done a good job of making him look presentable.

Cashie and the Kid walked very slowly forward until they could see the likeness of their friend and partner and, for such a short time, Cashie's husband. He was wearing the same suit he had worn to the wedding, but now there was no blood on his shirt or anywhere on the suit. He still looked like himself, though his color was pale.

Cashie reached out her hand to touch him, but it trembled so much Kid had to help her. Together they placed her hand against his cheek. They could both feel he was cold to the touch. Cashie didn't care. She leaned in and kissed him for the last time, her tears running down onto his blue suit.

"I love you so, Han," she cried. "I always will."

The Kid placed his hand over Heyes' clasped hands and said, "Rest easy, partner. We'll never forget you."

They both knew they had to let him go, that in fact, he had already gone where they could not follow, at least for now. So, they turned away before either or both broke down entirely and left so that the undertaker could complete his tasks in time for the burial in just a few hours. The sheriff patted them both on the shoulders and steered them out the door.

Neither of them had any appetite, so it was decided they would wait in the church until time for the burial. Reverend Finke spoke kindly to them and prayed the Lord's Prayer with them. Neither had much to say as they waited with dread for the moment when they would witness the laying of their loved one into the ground.

About ten minutes to four, Reverend Finke said it was time. He led them out the church, followed by Sheriff Riley, headed for the cemetery. A large crowd was already there, the hearse drawn by horse and buggy standing nearby. As they watched, several of the town's men brought the coffin to rest beside the grave. Cashie and the Kid moved closer to stand beside the burial site as Reverend Finke began speaking.

"Friends, we are gathered here today to say farewell to this, our friend, husband, partner and brother in Christ, Hannibal Heyes. He was not always a man who served on the right side of the law, but we know that over the years he had a change of heart that brought him to the side of goodness and rightness.

"Yes, he wanted to make a change in his life, and he did. But one thing he never sought to change was his love for his friend, cousin and partner, Mr. Jedediah Curry, and the woman who was the love of his life, Miss Cashie Malone. Only yesterday I had the immense pleasure of joining Mr. Heyes and Miss Malone in the holy bonds of matrimony. Many of you witnessed that happy occasion. They had such plans.

"But it was not meant to be. I will be the first to admit I do not always understand the mysterious ways our Lord works, and in this case, it seems a travesty that this good man's life was cut down so soon. My prayers are for his widow and his best friend that they may find acceptance and peace in their time of bereavement. I for one will be here to help them any way I can, and I feel sure many of you will do the same.

"Now I would like to share some scriptures that God has given us to provide hope in such times as these.

"In John 14:1-6, Jesus said, 'Let not your hearts be troubled: ye believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father's house are many mansions: if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again, and receive you unto myself; that where I am, there ye may be also.'

"Then in John 11, verses 25 and 26, 'Jesus said unto her, I am the resurrection, and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: And whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die.'

"My friends, Jesus said to the multitude on the Mount of Olives, 'Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.' And in Psalm 46, Verse 1, King David wrote, 'God is our refuge and our strength, an ever-present help in times of trouble.' These are certainly times of trouble.

"In Romans 8:35-39, Paul says, 'Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him that loved us. For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor any powers, nor height nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.'

"Also, Timothy wrote in Chapter 4, verses 7-8, 'I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith: Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, shall give me at that day-…'

King Solomon in the Book of Ecclesiastes, Chapter 3, said, 'To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven: A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted; A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance; A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away. A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak; A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.'

Jesus said, 'I died and behold I am alive for evermore.' (Revelation 1:18) 'Because I live, ye shall live also.' (John 14:19)

To those who have lost such a close loved one, I say to you, 'Now our Lord Jesus Christ himself, and God, even our Father, which hath loved us, and hath given us everlasting consolation and good hope through grace, comfort your heart, and stablish you in every good word and work.' (2 Thessalonians 2:16-17)

"Now let us repeat the 23rd Psalm together. 'The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me lie down in green pastures for His name sake; He restoreth my soul. Yeah, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me. Thou prepareth a table for me in the presence of mine enemies; Thou anointest my head with oil. My cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.'"

Cashie and the Kid listened to the scriptures the Reverend read and tried to find comfort in them. They barely knew the words to the 23rd Psalm, but did the best they could.

Reverend Finke came forward to shake their hands and offer a few private words of comfort before he was ready to turn the burial over to the undertaker and his crew.

Cashie had kept her eyes on the coffin during most of the eulogy. She knew Hannibal, or rather his body, was in there, and she held her breath off and on while the preacher said his words.

But when the undertaker's men started to take hold of the coffin to lower it into the ground, Cashie couldn't stand for it. She pulled away from the Kid and threw herself on top of it and began crying, "No, No, Han! I want to go with you! I want to go with you!"

Many in the crowd gathered around and wept as they saw and heard the heartbreak of the young widow; others gasped as they saw her fall atop the coffin.

The Kid reached down to try to pull her off, but she fought him and would not go. "Leave me, please, let me go with him!" she cried even louder.

By this time, it was beginning to get dark, and large snowflakes were falling.

The Kid knew he had to get Cashie away and let the men complete the burial service before it got dark and the weather became worse. He looked for support from the sheriff.

Sheriff Riley bent to help him with Cashie, him grabbing one arm while the Kid grabbed the other. She fought hard, but together they managed to pull her away. Kid wrapped her in his arms to comfort her but also so she couldn't get away from him again.

"I'm so sorry, Cashie," he whispered, "but we've got to let him go. He's not there anymore, and it's not your time to go."

He could feel her give way even before she began to drop towards the ground. He barely caught her in time. The Sheriff stepped over to help, but Kid lifted her in both arms and began to carry her back to the hotel.

"Doc!" the sheriff called, and the two men followed closely behind.

Kid hurried up the stairs of the hotel and into Cashie's room, placing her gently on the bed. He called her name but got no answer. By that time, the sheriff and Doc Martin were at the door.

"What's wrong with her?" the Kid barked at them.

Doc Martin came forward with his bag. He listened to her heart, felt her pulse and her forehead. This wasn't the first time he'd encountered a fainting widow.

"She'll be fine," he turned to Kid and said. "She's most likely dehydrated from lack of food today and last night, and obviously overcome with grief. Give her some time to rest, and then try to get as much fluids and food into her as you can."

The Kid nodded, knowing she had eaten very little for two days, and he was sure the stress of seeing Heyes in the coffin and then thinking of that coffin being lowered into the ground was hard for her to bear. Heck, it was even hard for him to think about!

"Just stay with her, and we'll check back as soon as the burial is over with," the sheriff said. "And we'll bring you both some food and somethin' to drink. All right?"

"Yeah, thanks, Sheriff, Doc," Kid answered without looking away from Cashie.

He took her hand in his and held it, gently rubbing, trying to get her to wake up. He was tired himself, but he had to be strong for her, had to get her through this. And he hoped she could help him as well.

It wasn't too long before Cashie began to slowly open her eyes. She was confused at first, but once she saw where she was and her eyes met Kid's, the horrible memory came back. She began to cry softly, but didn't speak.

Kid didn't know what to say either. All he wanted to do was hold her, and for her to hold him. She needed him, sure, but he needed her as well. He needed her so much.

He reached down and tried to wipe away her tears, but she brushed him off and turned on her side. She wasn't crying as much, but she obviously didn't want him to touch her, hold her or even look at her. It broke his heart that she would push him away. Didn't she realize he was hurting too, and he didn't have anyone else to turn to but her?

Kid got up and sat down in the rocking chair he'd sat in the night before when he and Sheriff Riley had talked. He could sure use the man's insight right now.

No, what he could really use was his partner's advice and words of wisdom and understanding. But that fool Wentworth had gone and killed his partner, his best friend, his cousin, and Cashie's husband. Damn that man! The Kid wanted so much to get his gun and go shoot the life out of that son-of-a-bitch just like he'd done to Heyes.

Thankfully, it wasn't long before the sheriff returned with a plate of food for him and a bowl of soup for Cashie. The man was an angel!

"She wake up?" he asked.

The Kid nodded slightly. He got up and took the soup from the sheriff's hands, and together they put the food on the table.

Kid looked over at Cashie, but couldn't tell if her eyes were open or shut. He motioned to Riley to follow him to the hallway. Once outside the room, he pulled the door to and then let out a very deep sigh.

"What now?" the sheriff asked, seeing how tired and low the young man seemed.

It was all the Kid could do to hold himself together, but he had to talk to someone.

"She woke up, didn't say a word. Started cryin' again. I tried to comfort her…"

He swallowed hard, having difficulty finishing his sentence. "She…she turned away from me."

Sheriff Riley understood what the man was trying to say and how he must be feeling. He put his hand on the Kid's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Son. I know that must have…been hard for ya."

Kid sniffed back his tears, but a few had already fallen. He shook his head, and wiped his face with his hand. "I don't know…I've tried to…it's just so hard…"

He couldn't continue and bent over in such horrible emotional pain. Riley caught him and let the man lean on him, get his hurt out.

The sheriff thought how this man might have been an outlaw once. He might be a fast draw. He might be or have been a lot of things. But right now, he was simply a man in a lot of pain. Like the preacher had said the night before, "just a kid."

"Come on," the sheriff said and pointed him in the direction of his and Heyes' room so they could have some privacy and not disturb Cashie in her own room. He opened the door and sat the suffering Kid on the bed. Then the sheriff sat down in one of the chairs.

"You're a good man, Jed Curry," Riley said and put his hand on the man's knee. "Whatever you may have done or been in the past, there's no doubt in my mind that you're a good man, and right now you're a very hurt man. You've lost your best friend, and now you've been left to take care of his widow, a woman you obviously care a great deal about yourself. But she don't want you. She wants him. God help you, Son. I truly feel for ya."

The Kid had been looking down at the floor, and he didn't look up. He just nodded. It felt good to hear someone tell him exactly what he was feeling, help him sort it all out. He'd felt like he'd been drowning, barely keeping his head above water, since Heyes was gunned down. He felt so alone, more alone than he'd ever felt since the day his family was massacred.

He slowly lifted his head to look the sheriff in the eyes. "Thank you," was all he could say.

The sheriff nodded. Then he got up and started toward the door. "I'm gonna bring that plate of food in here, and that bottle of whiskey from last night, and you're gonna eat and take care of yourself, mister."

There was a firmness in his voice that let the Kid know he meant what he said and he didn't want to hear any back talk. Still the Kid looked up and said, "What about…"

"I'll see to her after I get you took care of. You hear?"

The Kid nodded and let him go. Soon the sheriff was back just as he'd said. He put the food on the table, along with the bottle of whiskey and the shot glasses.

"Now get on up here and eat," he ordered.

The Kid did as he was told, actually glad for someone else to take charge. He thought how much like his partner the sheriff was being and how totally absurd this scene would have been less than a couple of months ago.

"I'm gonna go see what I can do for her," the sheriff said. "You need to refuel yourself 'fore you can help her anymore. And don't you dare feel guilty about it."

The faintest bit of a smile tugged at Kid's lips as the sheriff left the room. He hungrily wolfed down the food in front of him and poured himself a glass of whiskey too. He had to admit it felt good.

Across the hall, Sheriff Riley gave a soft knock before going into Cashie's room. She was lying on the bed, her face turned toward the wall, just as the Kid had said.

"You awake, Missy?" the sheriff asked in a low tone. When there was no answer, he sat down on the edge of the bed. "We need to talk a bit."

After a few more seconds of silence, she said, "Leave me alone. Please."

The sheriff let out a deep sigh. "Cain't do that, Missy." He waited for her to respond, and eventually she rolled over and looked at him. She seemed confused.

"Why are you here? Where's Kid?"

"He's across the hall in his own room takin' care of hisself. I told him to eat somethin' and get some rest. The boy's about gone his last mile tryin' to look after you. I know you're grievin', but he's grievin' too."

"What happened?" she asked.

"You fainted out at the cemetery. And that fella over there across the hall, he carried you back here just as fast as his legs would carry him, the doc and me following behind. We were all worried about you. Doc said it was a combination of grief and not eatin' the last couple of days."

She let out a sigh too. "I can't eat. There's no reason to eat."

"Oh yes, you can, and you will, young lady. Now take my hand and I'll help you sit up. I've got a nice bowl of chicken soup and noodles for you."

"I don't want it. Just go away."

He wasn't about to let it go. "Now you either take my hand, sit up and eat, or I'm gonna sit you up and pour this soup down your throat."

Cashie had a puzzled look on her face. "Why do you care?"

The sheriff made a "Hmmf" sound before saying, "In case you hadn't noticed, I've been caring about all of you since not long after you came into my jail. I cared about you before you and Heyes got married. I cared about him, and now I still care about the two of you left, and I'm gonna do whatever it takes to look after ya. Now git on up here and eat some soup."

Cashie didn't feel like arguing with the man, so she took his hand and let him help her sit up on the bed. He reached over to get the bowl of soup off the table and held it in front of her. Before she could take it from him, he'd dipped up a spoonful and held it out for her to sip. She was surprised, but his determined look made her feel she should comply. She opened her mouth, the spoon went in, and she swallowed.

"You can't know how I feel," she said without looking at this man who was feeding her like a child. "I had everything, and now…now I have nothing."

"Shaw, girl! Don't give me that. You got a lot more than nothin' if you'd just open yer eyes."

He offered her another spoonful of soup, and surprisingly she took it. "What do I have?" she asked, resentment showing in her eyes.

"Well, for starters, you got a friend over there who loves you and wants to help you even though his own heart is breakin'. You got a whole town full of people that care about you and want to help you get through this. Now I know it's not what you wanted. I know it's not fair. But we both know life ain't always fair."

"No, I don't think life has ever been fair for me, or Han or Kid. I began to hope…and now…what is there to hope for?" Her voice broke and her eyes misted with tears.

The sheriff put down the soup and spoon. He looked at her and then held out his arms. He was both surprised and pleased when she came to him and let him surround her with his arms. As he'd told her before, he felt she was like a daughter to him. And she'd never had the love of a father, at least not for a very long time.

"I just wish I could die too," she cried, her tears falling hard now.

The sheriff laid his head on hers and said, "You cain't think like that, Missy. You know he wouldn't want you to feel that way. He'd want you to go on with yer life. You know he would."

She pulled away and shook her head. "I don't know anything except it hurts so bad. One minute we're married and the next…he's gone. He meant everything to me, sheriff. Everything. I don't know how to go on without him. I really don't."

He pulled her back to him and patted her on the back. "I know you don't. Believe it or not, but I was once young too. I had a wife I loved more than anything. But one day she died, and I thought I'd never get over it."

He pushed her back to look into her eyes. "But I did. And you will too."

"No," she said, shaking her head. "No, I won't. I can't." She wiped her eyes and looked at the sheriff almost defiantly.

"All right, let's say you can't. What about your friend, Jed? What's that goin' to do to him? What's he goin' to do without his best friend and now you? What's gonna happen to him?"

"I don't know," she whispered. "I don't know."

The sheriff looked intently at her, wondering how much he should say. He didn't want to push her too far.

"Look, I know he's not the one you wanted. Sure I do. But he's all you've got right now, and you're all he's got. You cain't just push him away. You hurt him somethin' bad tonight. He didn't want you to see, but he nearly fell apart when I got here. That's why I made him go get some rest and let me take care of you for a bit. The man's only human."

"I didn't mean to…"

"I know you didn't. He knows you didn't, but still…"

Cashie blinked a couple of times, then said, "Thank you. I think I'll finish the soup now."

Sheriff Riley's face lit up. "There you go." He reached over for the bowl of soup and the spoon, intending to continue to feed the young woman as before, but she took it from his hands and started feeding herself.

"I'm not a child," she said between sips.

"No, you're not, but sometimes we all need to be taken care of like when we were a child. Nothin' wrong with that."

He sat and watched until she'd finished every drop of the soup and handed him the bowl and spoon.

"Good," he said. "Now, I want you to take a tablespoon of your medicine so you can sleep tonight. Hopefully, your friend, Jed, can get some sleep too, and we'll see how you're both feelin' in the morning."

He poured the spoon full of laudanum and gave it to her. She didn't fuss at all, took it right down.

"Now, are you gonna be all right if I leave you alone?"

Cashie nodded, got up, pulled the covers back, and crawled under them. She had a faint memory of being tucked in as a child. She thought how funny it was that this man who had once been her jailer could bring out such feelings from long ago.

Sheriff Riley got up and patted her hand before saying "Night" and blowing out the lamp. He found his way to the door and closed it behind it. Then he knocked on the door on the other side of the hallway. His other "ward" opened the door with a look of askance.

"She's fine. I got her to eat the bowl of soup, and I gave her a spoonful of medicine to help her sleep. She said she'd be all right until the mornin'."

The Kid let out a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Sheriff. You're a life saver."

"No thanks needed. Now you get yerself some sleep. Hopefully both of you'll feel better tomorrow."

"I will. I promise."

"Night," the sheriff said and turned to walk down the hall.

Kid closed the door, poured himself one more drink, then got undressed. He got under the covers and stretched out for the first time in two days. It felt good. Soon he was fast asleep.


	11. Finally, A Little Good News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After such a horrible tragedy, a little good news for the two former outlaws. But will it make any difference?

Daybreak came and went. The Kid slept longer than normally. When he finally awoke, he felt refreshed, but his first thought was the same: Cashie. He wondered if she had slept as well and how she would be feeling today.

He stretched and got out from under the covers. He found his regular clothes and got dressed. But in finding his clothes, he also came across Heyes' clothing. He noticed his holster and gun, his hat, even his boots were still in the room. Everything the man had to his name was in that same room where he'd left it only two days before. Kid hadn't had time to notice before. Now he did, and it brought him such sadness.

Heyes had planned to move all those things to Cashie's room after they were married. But he never got the chance. Now he never would.

Kid pushed those thoughts away as he opened the door and walked across the hallway to check on Cashie. He knocked but heard nothing, so he quietly opened the door. She was lying in bed, apparently still sleeping. But somehow the Kid had to know. He walked over and touched her face, just to be sure…

She was warm to the touch, and he let out a sigh of relief. Her eyes were closed, and he wanted so much to kiss her on the cheek. But he didn't want to wake her. Even more than that, he didn't want her to push him away again like she had last night. He made himself wait.

Soon he heard a knock on the door across the hall. He quietly opened the door only to find Sheriff Riley in the hallway. Kid pulled the door to Cashie's room to. Riley didn't look too happy.

"Now what in tarnation are you doin' over there?" the sheriff asked with a frown on his face. "I told you to get some sleep in there." He pointed toward Kid's room.

Kid smiled. "I did, Sheriff. I promise you, I did. And it felt good. I'm feelin' much better this mornin'. I just now came over to check on her, that's all."

"And?"

"She's still sleepin'. Looks like that medicine you gave her did the trick."

Riley seemed pleased. "Well now, I'm glad to hear that from both of you. I was thinkin' maybe I'd see if Mrs. Obermier could come by and spend some time with Missy and maybe help her get changed or even a bath, whatever it is women like to do, you know, to make 'em feel better. Me and you been tendin' to her, but maybe she needs another woman to talk to, confide in, you see."

Kid smiled again. "You just might be right about that, too, Sheriff."

Riley frowned. "Don't you think it's about time we stopped this 'Sheriff' bit, and you just called me 'Hank?' What do ya say?"

The Kid laughed. "Well, now, I think I could do that…Hank."

The sheriff laughed too. "All right, then, I'll see about getting' Mrs. Obermier over here. I know you're gonna hang around until she gets here, ain't ya?"

"Yeah, I probably will," the Kid said, still smiling.

"Fine. I'll send some breakfast over with her, and you be sure you eat and get some food in that little lady in there. And don't mind threatenin' her if you have to. I did last night, and it worked sure enough."

"You did?" the Kid laughed again. "I'd o' paid money to see that."

Riley laughed too. "Well, once you get her settled and both of ya had somethin' to eat, stop by my office. We need to talk about a few things."

The Kid frowned. "We do? Like what?"

"Never you mind for now. Nothin' to worry about. I'll be expectin' ya."

The Kid shrugged, not having a clue what the sheriff meant. "I'll come by soon as I can."

"Good." And with that Sheriff Riley went down the hall and stairs.

The Kid opened the door and checked in on Cashie again. She was beginning to move around a bit, so he figured it wouldn't be long before she was awake. He sat down in the rocking chair and waited.

Cashie opened her eyes and blinked a couple of times to clear her vision. It was daylight now. She'd slept ever since Kid…no…Sheriff Riley had made her eat a bowl of soup and take some medicine. Or did she dream that? She shook her head and looked around the room. She was surprised to find Kid sitting in a chair, evidently waiting for her to wake up.

"Kid?"

"Yeah," he said softly.

"How long have you been here?"

"Not too long. Just wanted to make sure you were all right."

She sat up in the bed and looked at him thoughtfully. "I had this strange dream, I think."

"What about?" he asked.

"I thought Sheriff Riley threatened to pour soup down my throat if I didn't eat it, and then he fed me with a spoon like I was a little girl."

The Kid tried to hide his laughter but failed miserably. "Really now? That was your dream?"

Cashie eyed him cautiously. "Why are you laughin'?"

"'Cause he told me about threatenin' you, but he never said a word about feedin' you with a spoon," he chortled.

Cashie looked away, feeling embarrassed and frustrated. "So, it wasn't a dream," she said, now remembering bits and pieces of the night before.

"No, I guess not," the Kid replied. "Don't feel bad. He set me straight on a few things too. Made me go eat a good meal and get some sleep in my own room. Guess he's adopted both of us."

He laughed, and even Cashie smiled. She remembered the way the man had hugged her like she was his daughter and told her she had to go on. She also remembered another thing he'd said.

"He told me I hurt you."

The Kid stopped laughing and the smile left his face. He didn't say anything, just looked at the floor.

Cashie realized what the sheriff said must be true. She could see it on Kid's face.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't mean to. I was hurtin' so bad."

The Kid got up and went to her, his hand caressing her face. "I know you didn't," he said, his eyes watching hers. "It's been an awful couple of days."

She nodded and then pulled him to her, her arms around his neck, his arms cradling her as he'd wanted to the night before.

He kissed her cheek at last, and she didn't push him away. He smiled at her, and she took his hand and held it for a long time. No words were needed.

Then there was another knock on the door. Kid got up and opened it to find Mrs. Obermier, her hands filled with a breakfast platter, just as Sheriff Riley had said.

"Hello, my dear," she said to Cashie. "Hello, Mr. Curry. De Sheriff send me with breakfast for both of you, and he said be sure you eat it all up. Ja?"

"Thank you, Mrs. Obermier," the Kid said, taking the platter from her. "I have direct orders from the sheriff myself to make sure this one eats. He said to threaten her if I have to."

Mrs. Obermier laughed. "Dat I would like to see."

Then she sat down on the bed beside Cashie and took her hand, rubbing it comfortingly. "My poor dear, I will try to make better."

Cashie managed a slight smile. "Thank you so much for all you've done for me. You've been so kind."

The German woman smiled. "No trouble. I like to help you," she said. "After breakfast, we will talk and I help you take bath or change clothes or whatever you vant. Ja?"

"Sounds like a good idea. I'd take her up on it, Cash," Kid encouraged her.

"Perhaps," Cashie said.

Kid took the cover off the platter and handed it to Cashie first. "Now are you gonna eat or do I have to feed it to you?" he said with a smile.

Cashie gave him a defiant look and said, "I can do it, thank you."

"Good. I'll go get us some coffee." He left the two women alone and hurried down the stairs.

Mrs. Obermier looked with concern at the young women she had only two days before helped don her wedding dress and then had to help take the bloody garment off her that very night.

"I so sorry, Miss Cashie," she said softly, not wanting to bring up the bad memories but realizing they were already there. "I vish I could change it for you."

"I wish you could too," Cashie said, a grimace on her face now.

"But you must eat, stay strong," the seamstress instructed. "Go on before your friend come back with coffee."

Cashie nodded and took a few bites of the eggs and a biscuit. As she was finishing, the Kid came in with a whole pot of coffee from downstairs and two clean cups. He poured them each some and handed one to her. She took it and drank without any fuss.

"Looks like you ate pretty good," he complimented her.

"She did," Mrs. Obermier concurred.

Cashie handed the platter back to Kid so he could eat his share. "I left you plenty," she said.

"I wouldn't have minded if you ate a bit more, but I'll definitely finish it."

Cashie felt the need to explain to their new German friend. "He always had the biggest appetite."

Mrs. Obermier smiled. "He growin' man."

The Kid had just about finished everything left on the plate, then washed it down with his coffee. "You want more coffee?" he asked Cashie. She shook her head.

"Well, I guess I'll leave you ladies to do whatever ladies do by themselves," the Kid said. "Sheriff Riley wants to talk to me about somethin'. Wouldn't say what."

Cashie had a concerned look on her face, which he read clearly. "He said nothin' to worry about, though."

He let out a sigh, looked at Cashie with gentle eyes, but didn't offer to kiss her good-bye in front of the German woman. He simply said, "I'll see you later," and left.

When he had closed the door, Mrs. Obermier looked at her young friend and said, "He good man."

Cashie managed a slight smile and nodded.

The Kid walked over to the sheriff's office and opened the door.

"Come in, Jed," the man said with little fanfare. "Have a seat."

Jed was curious and, if he were honest, a bit anxious. "What's this all about, Sher….er…Hank?"

"Just a few things I thought you needed to know. First off, I have some good news from your friend, Sheriff Lom Travers. He'll be arriving here in a few days, maybe a week, and he's bringin' something' with him I think you and Missy will be real happy about."

"Yeah?" the Kid said, his brow furrowed. "What's that?"

"The Governor of Wyoming has finally granted your amnesty. Sheriff Trevors will be bringing the papers with him."

The Kid sat staring at the sheriff, not saying a word as yet. He was letting the news and its implications sink in.

"He's decided now to give us the amnesty? Now, after… Why the hell couldn't he have done it a week ago, or a month, or years ago like they promised? Why now when it's too late?"

The sheriff hung his head and nodded. "Yeah, I feel the same way. But at least it'll help you and her. Too late for Heyes, I know. But it is what it is."

"So Lom is bringing the papers?"

"That's what the telegram said."

The Kid let out a sigh. "Well, it'll be good to see him, but the rest. 'Course I'm glad they finally had the sense to make things right, but it don't set well with me, Sher….I mean, Hank. And Cashie, my God, she's gonna be even more angry when she finds out."

"You're not gonna tell her right away?"

Kid bit his lip, then shook his head. "I don't think so. It'll only upset her. I know it will. I'll tell her a day or so before Lom is due to arrive. No need upsettin' her any more right now."

"You're probably right," the sheriff agreed.

"Is that all?" the Kid asked.

"Oh no. Got a few more things. First off, Jed, I need a deputy. Loomis is only a part-time deputy when needed. He's not interested in full-time deputy work. So that leaves me at a loss. Look, I know you've been workin' some at the livery stable. I also know you got bills runnin' up with two hotel rooms, meals, and other things. The deputy job pays a lot more, and, frankly, I could use your help. So, what do ya think?"

This was the last thing Curry had expected. Even though he and the sheriff had gotten closer over the past few days, it had never occurred to him he might offer him such a job.

He let out a light laugh. "You want me as your deputy?"

The sheriff smiled, realizing the irony of the situation. "I guess so. I mean, you got the best qualifications of any man in town right now. Good with the gun, knowing about outlaws and now on the right side of the law. Why not you?"

Kid shook his head. "I wasn't expectin' this at all. More like bein' in some kind of trouble than tryin' to keep others out o' trouble."

"Well, you do have a little experience, I hear."

The Kid shrugged. "Not on an up-and-up level, but yeah, a little."

"Well, then, there you go. Of course, it'll need to be after your friend gets here with that amnesty, but I've made up my mind. It's yours, if you want it, that is."

The Kid thought it over a few moments, then said, "I'll need to talk it over with Cashie. Law work has its dangers too, and after what she's been through, I'd want to be sure she was all right with it before I said yes."

"I understand. Probably a good idea, too."

"Well, I'll get back to you as soon as we talk," the Kid promised.

"Good. Now there's one more subject I need to talk with you about. And I saved it for last since it's sort of…private. I really don't even want to mention it, but I feel I have to."

Kid was lost now. Confusion was written all over his face. "Ain't much we hain't already talked about, Hank. No need to get shy now. What's on yer mind?"

The sheriff laughed lightly and nodded. "Well, this one here is a personal matter, one that maybe you might think is none of my business. But I feel the need to say it anyhow for yours and Missy's own good."

Kid was even more lost.

"Look, you both got some supporters like me, the Doc, the preacher, and a few others, who understand the situation more than maybe the average person in town. But I don't want anybody thinkin' or sayin' anything to hurt either one of you. That's why I'm bringin' it up before they do."

"Bringin' up what?" the Kid wanted to know.

"Son, it is quite obvious to me and the ones I mentioned that you and that lady need to be together, to support one another and grieve together. She's takin' her man's death real hard, and you are the closest thing she's got to a best friend or a relative. But…there's the rub. You ain't a relative; you ain't her intended; and at some point someone's gonna raise a ruckus if'n you and her keep spendin' so much time together in her room." He paused slightly, then added, "Besides, I don't figure you can afford to pay for two rooms much longer anyway."

A glimmer of understanding came into the Kid's eyes. Hank was trying to be delicate, but what he was getting at was that at some point people were going to start talking about him and Cashie in ways that would be hurtful to both of them.

"Yeah, I see what you mean now," he said, blowing out a breath. "But what can I do about it? She needs me, and I ain't gonna let her down."

"Don't expect you to," the sheriff agreed. "That's why me and the preacher and the Doc been puttin' our heads together tryin' to figure this thing out for the best for both of ya."

"And what have you come up with?"

"Nothin' definite. We want to run all this by Mr. Brubaker, first."

"Brubaker?" the Kid questioned. "What's he got to do with this?"

"Just want his opinion, that's all," the sheriff answered. "I'll get back with you once we've talked to him. In the meantime, you keep doin' what you've been doin. Don't think nobody's gonna say nothin' out o' line right now. All right?"

"All right," the Kid said, feeling somewhat uncomfortable with this subject. "Anything else?"

"Nope, not right now. I'll be in touch when I do. By the way, how did our girl eat this mornin'?

The Kid laughed. "I didn't have to threaten her. She ate right well, I thought. I left her with Mrs. Obermier. I sure hope she can help her some way."

"Me too," the sheriff said, getting up from his desk. The Kid followed suit, and the two shook hands.

"Thanks, Sher…Hank," the Kid said. "I've got a few more errands to run."

The sheriff nodded, and the Kid turned and walked out the door. Next, he was headed for Groover's Mercantile.

Mr. Groover looked up as the Kid came in his store. "Hello, Mr. Curry," he said in as near a friendly voice as the man could manage. "I'm so sorry about Mr. Heyes."

Kid nodded and took his hat off. "Thank you. That's what I wanted to see you about."

"Oh?" the shopkeeper said.

"Yeah, Heyes told me about the ring, how you were gonna let him pay for it out of his wages."

"That's right, Mr. Curry. I figured I'd go ahead and apply what wages Mr. Heyes had already earned before his untimely death to the debt. Does that sound satisfactory?"

"Absolutely," the Kid agreed. "And if you would, let me know the balance after that, and I'll be glad to finish paying for it."

"Certainly," Mr. Groover said. He got out some books and started figuring the cost of the ring minus what Heyes' wages were, and finally came up with a new balance. $15.25 should cover it, Mr. Curry."

The Kid reached into his shirt pocket. "Is it all right if I put five dollars on it now? I have some money comin' to me from the livery stable and then I have a better job lined up in about a week. I'd like to pay another five dollars or maybe even the whole balance then."

Mr. Groover made a few notes on the account. "That should be fine, Mr. Curry." Kid handed him the five dollars, and he put it with the other papers he had on the ring. The shopkeeper looked up at the younger man. "Such a shame about Mr. Heyes and his bride." He shook his head several times. "Such a shame. How is she doing?"

"Not well, as you can imagine. She took it pretty hard."

"Well, if I can do anything to help either of you, just let me know."

"Thank you, Mr. Groover," the Kid said and put his hat back on.

He left the mercantile and headed for the livery. He hoped he had a job there still, at least until he could talk with Cashie and decide about the deputy job.

His boss, Rufus Carver, wasn't expecting him but seemed glad to see the Kid. "Sorry about your partner," he offered.

"Thanks," the Kid acknowledged. "Do I still have a job here, Rufus? I know I've been out a few days with everything that happened, but I could sure use the money right now."

"'Course you still got a job, long as you want it," the stableman assured him.

"Good, 'cause I got bills to pay," the Kid answered and set out to brushing down some of the horses.

It was nearly dark when he finished up work and went back to the hotel to see what Cashie had been up to with Mrs. Obermier that day. Strangely, he found her alone in her room, sitting in the rocking chair, quiet and looking at nothing in particular. She had on her old dress from before they were in jail.

He sat down on the bed next to her, trying to gauge her mood.

"How'd your day go?" he asked. "Did you get a bath?"

She shook her head.

"Why not?" Kid asked.

"I had a bath…a few days ago," she answered in soft, slow tones. "Don't see the need for another just yet.

"I guess not," the Kid replied, realizing she meant the day before the wedding.

He thought she seemed different from the morning. Then she had smiled more and eaten her breakfast. He wondered what had happened between then and now.

"Did you have a nice talk with Mrs. Obermier?" he asked.

"It was all right," she answered, still not looking at him.

"You seem more down than when I left this morning? Anything happen?"

She was quiet for a while, then said, "Nothing happened, Kid. Nothing is going to happen except…"

"Except what?"

"We'll all going to die, Kid. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but one day we're all gonna die."

Kid hadn't expected this subject of thinking to come up. He tried to think fast how to answer her.

"Yeah, that's true. Someday we're all gonna die. Just like in those scriptures the preacher read. But, he said someday we're also gonna live again. Remember that part?"

"Maybe," she whispered.

"Well, I want to believe it's true. Don't you?"

She let out a deep sigh and looked up at him. "I don't know what to believe, Kid. I really don't."

He picked up her left hand and held it in his own. Not knowing what to say, he thought maybe he should tell her about the deputy's job."

"I saw Sheriff Riley earlier today, and we talked about a few things."

"What did he want?" she asked.

"Well, for one thing, he needs a deputy. And he wanted to know if I'd be interested. I told him I'd have to talk to you first."

She looked up at him, but her face seemed blank. "Why?"

"Why? Because I do. I want your input, your feelings about it. After what you've been through, the last thing I want to do is worry you."

She turned back toward the wall. "If it's what you want to do, then do it," she said with little concern in her voice.

Kid wasn't sure how to take what she'd said. Did she mean she was fine with it? Or did she mean she didn't care at all?

"Well, he said it would pay more than I'm making at the livery."

"Good," was her only answer.

There was a knock on the door, and Kid got up to answer it. Sheriff Riley was standing there, concern on his face.

"We were just talking about the job offer," the Kid told the sheriff.

He walked on in the room. "Well, what do you think about it, Missy?"

"I don't care," she said nonchalantly.

The Sheriff frowned and looked over at the Kid, who looked back with questioning eyes.

"So, it wouldn't bother you if he were my deputy?"

"What difference does it make? If that's what he wants to do, I told him to do it."

This did not sound at all like the women from this morning to the sheriff either. He sat down on the bed beside the rocking chair just as the Kid had done previously.

"What's happened?" he questioned her. "What happened with Mrs. Obermier?"

"Nothing," she said. "We talked a bit. I told her I didn't want a bath, and I sent her away."

Now the sheriff and Kid both were frowning hard. "We were hoping she could make you feel a little better," the sheriff said.

"Well, she didn't. Although I thanked her for tryin."

Kid motioned for the sheriff to meet him in the hallway once more so they could talk without Cashie hearing.

Once outside the door, the Kid explained, "She's been talkin' about how we're all gonna die someday."

"Hmm, well it's a fact o' life, but I don't know why she's got that on her mind. Do you?"

Kid shook his head. "I told her accordin' to the preacher we're all gonna live again someday too."

"Good answer. Did it seem to help?"

"Not really," the Kid said. "I don't know where her mind is today. I was hopeful this morning, but now…I don't know."

The sheriff let out a sigh. "Did you tell her about the amnesty?"

"Nope. Still don't think that's the right thing to do just yet."

"Well, let's just be sure we get her to eat tonight, maybe give her some more medicine. I 'spect she's gonna be up and down in her feelin's. No one can expect her to jump back from such a trauma and loss overnight. It's only been a few days. Just gotta be patient…but firm. Last thing she needs is to get herself sick from not eatin'. I don't envy you, Son."

"I don't have any other choice, Hank. The three of us were all about takin' care of one another. Heyes wouldn't o' left me nor me him. And neither of us would o' left Cashie. With Heyes gone, she's my responsibility. No other way around it."

"I see that. Just one word of advice, especially after last night. Don't take everything she says to heart so much. In her state of mind, she probably don't know, let alone mean, half of what she says. So just take it with a grain of salt, you see."

The Kid nodded. "Thanks, Hank. You're a real friend. I appreciate all you've done for me and her."

"Sure. I'll get you some supper. Be right back. "

The sheriff took off, and the Kid walked back in Cashie's room to find her still sitting in the rocking chair.

"Hank's gonna get us some supper," he told her.

"What're you two sayin' behind my back now?" Cashie asked, a note of sarcasm in her voice.

"Nothin' much. We just want to do anything we can to help you, that's all."

Cashie let out a sigh. "I know you mean well, Kid, and the sheriff, too, but neither one of you can magically make me better with all your food and hugs and bright ideas."

The former outlaw sat down on the bed again, near to Cashie's chair. "We know that. But we have to try. You'd do the same for me. I know you would."

She had nothing more to say, and the Kid didn't know what to say either. He was thankful when the sheriff came in with their supper.

"There's plenty more where this came from," he said, setting the plates down on the table. "Now you be sure you eat somethin', Missy. We don't want ya faintin' on us again."

"I'll eat somethin' just to make you two happy, but it's not 'cause I'm hungry," came her terse reply.

The Kid and the sheriff exchanged glances. It was like she was a completely different woman from that morning.

"Well, I've got some people to see and make some rounds about town 'fore bedtime. You two take care of one another, and I'll see you tomorrow."

"Thanks, Sher…Hank." He almost forgot.

"You're gettin' better," the sheriff laughed. "Night."

"Night," the Kid said. Cashie said nothing.

Kid moved over to the table and uncovered the plates. "Come on, Cash, we've got some chicken, potatoes, string beans and even a piece of pie."

When she didn't budge, he said, "Come on, now. You promised me and Hank you'd eat somethin'.

After several minutes of silence, Cashie got up and joined him at the table. She took a few bites of chicken and potatoes, a few beans, but left the majority on the plate. Kid watched to see how much she ate. He wished she had eaten more, but he figured it best to be thankful and not fuss at her.

She pushed the plate towards him. "You can have the rest."

"I wish you'd eat more, but if that's all you want…"

She drank most of her glass of water while he finished off her leftovers. He cleaned up the table and set the empty plates aside.

"Can I get you anything else?" he asked.

She shook her head. He reached for her hand, but she pulled it away and refused to look up at him. She had her jaw set like she was mad…at him, at the world, at God. Her whole demeanor made him feel very much alone.

"You want to take your medicine now," he asked since she didn't seem to want to talk.

"Fine," she said.

He got the bottle and poured out a spoonful. He poured it in her glass so as not to spill it. She drank it immediately, as if doing so would turn off the world. Kid figured that was probably what she wanted: to sleep and forget.

"I don't mind stayin' here with ya, you know," he said. "Just to be sure you're all right."

Finally, she lifted her head and looked straight into his eyes. "I'm not all right, Kid. I'm never going to be all right. Not ever. Surely you realize that."

Her words broke his heart all over again. He knew she was right, and all the pretending in the world wasn't going to change that.

He nodded. "I do. Neither of us is ever going to be the same again. But we gotta try, for each other and for Heyes. You know he wouldn't want us to stop livin'."

Her eyes became misty as she said, "I don't want to live without him, Kid. I don't know how." She put her face in her hands and began sobbing again.

Kid closed his eyes for a bit, her sobs making his pain even worse. He got up and pulled her up from the table and held her for a bit, until her sobs lessened. Then he led her over to the side of the bed and turned the covers down.

"Get some sleep and we'll talk in the mornin'." She got into bed, and he pulled the covers up before turning out the lamp.

"Night," he said and then walked out.

The Kid thought about going to the saloon and having a drink, maybe playing some poker. But poker only made him think about Heyes, and he still had some of the bottle of whiskey the sheriff had brought him two nights before. He poured himself a couple of glasses and drank them down.

He tried to remember what Hank had said about Cashie, about how she didn't mean everything she said. He knew better than anyone how hurt she was because he was so deeply hurt himself. Finally, he got undressed and crawled into bed. Just as the night before, he thought about his partner and how all his belongings were in that room. But the room felt so alone.

Heyes was gone, that was for sure. And Cashie was across the hall, but she might as well be a thousand miles away for all the good it was doing him at the moment. He needed her, and she needed him, but right now what she needed most was time. Time to reconcile what had been with what was now. And for that, she didn't need him.

The whiskey soon dulled his senses, and he drifted off into a restless sleep, one where he was no longer wanted, but was all alone.


	12. Descent into Madness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens when three lawmen try to approach a former outlaw whose mind has been ravaged by grief? The unexpected!
> 
> (Author's Note: This may very well be my last post. The story continues from this point, but as many have said they need to know more about Cashie's past and how she came to be with Heyes and Curry and their relationship, I feel it is best to stop until I have time to start at the beginning and flesh that out more in detail. This is a long saga that I will finish one day, but right now I have other priorities. I hope you have enjoyed these 12 chapters I've shared.)

Word was that Lom Trevors would be arriving with amnesty papers for the Kid and Cashie on Thursday's train. The Kid still hadn't told Cashie about the amnesty or Lom's visit.

She had been silent and closed away to herself for the last several days. Nothing he nor anyone else had done seemed to bring her any joy or comfort. She ate just enough to keep them from fussing at her, and she refused to leave her room.

The Kid had been staying in his own room each night. So far Cashie hadn't needed or wanted him nearby, and he knew the sheriff was probably glad for that fact. He still hadn't mentioned anything more to the Kid about whatever he was going to talk to Brubaker about.

The night before Lom was to arrive with the amnesty papers, Kid decided he had to tell Cashie. He came in after getting off work at the livery stable and found her in her usual position, sitting in the rocking chair. He came in and sat on the bed beside her, as was becoming a usual ritual. If she had anything to say, he'd listen, or if he had anything to tell her, he'd try to get her to talk. The past few days there hadn't been much said between them.

"Hey, Cash. How ya feeling?" he said softly, trying to ease into the conversation he knew he had to have with her.

There was no reply, so he continued. "I need to talk to you about somethin' important. Are you listenin'?"

"Yes," was her only reply.

"Good. Well, I have some good news to tell ya."

That got her attention. She looked over at him. "How could there be good news?" Her tone was caustic.

The Kid swallowed. He knew in her state she wouldn't think anything was good news; nevertheless, he knew it was, and he had to tell her.

"Well, it seems, and Sheriff Riley told me a few days ago, that…well…"

He couldn't seem to get the words out, and he could tell she knew something was up, something he didn't know how to tell her. He realized he might as well jump in with both feet.

"The thing is, Cash…" He let out a deep sigh. "The governor has granted our amnesty, and Lom's coming in tomorrow to deliver the papers to us."

There. He'd said it. Now he waited for her response. He knew it wasn't going to be pretty.

Cashie stared at him, the news sinking in. Her eyes tightened, as did her mouth.

"Now?" she said, her voice raised. "Now, when it's too damned late? Now, after Han is dead and it won't do him any good?"

The Kid was expecting this. He looked down toward the floor. "Yeah, I know. I feel the same way."

Cashie's hands gripped the arms of the rocker. Her body tensed with the rage that was coursing through her veins.

"Damn that man!" she yelled. "Damn him and all his cronies to hell!"

Then she abruptly jumped out of the chair and ran over to the window, her hands shaking.

"This is so wrong, so wrong, Kid! We waited all those years. We were patient. We went through that trial and still no word from the governor. And then this…then Hannibal is murdered, and he thinks the time is right now? God damn him for waiting until it's too late! If only…"

Kid knew what she was going to say. He came up behind her and put his hands on her arms to hold her steady and try to make her understand she wasn't the only one who felt the fury, the injustice of the governor's timing.

"If only he'd done this right after the trial. Hell, if only he'd done it a week ago…"

Cashie's anger was mingled with sadness now as she thought how different things might have been but for politics and inaction on the governor's part. Tears overtook her, but the hate was still there.

"I want to kill him!" she spat through her tears. "I want to kill him, Kid."

He turned her around and let her lean on him, his arms holding her tightly. "I know you do. Part of me does, too."

Their anger and sadness united them for a few minutes until Cashie pulled away and went back to her rocking chair. She tried to wipe her tears and pull herself together. The Kid watched her, knowing how bittersweet this moment was for both of them. He waited to see what her next response would be. It didn't take long.

"So, Lom is bringing the papers tomorrow?" she asked.

"Yep. On the noon train. Me and Riley are meetin' him at the station. I'm sure he'll want to see you, Cash."

"Good," she said dogmatically. "I want to see him too."

Kid sat back down beside her. "It really is a good thing for me and you. No more runnin'. We can start our lives over, here in Martinsburg or somewhere else. No more restrictions on where we can go."

"A good thing," she repeated. "Yes, a good thing. Thank you for tellin' me, Kid."

"The only reason I didn't tell you before was I knew you'd be upset. I was tryin' to spare you a couple of days. You're not mad at me, are you?"

"No," she said. "What difference would it make if you'd told me then or now? I know. That's all that matters."

"Good. We'll get through it, Cash. And it will be a good thing. I know it will."

She nodded, and it seemed like as good a time as any to see if she wanted some supper now.

"Fine," she said, not giving him any fuss at all.

He was surprised, but certainly glad she was willing to eat. "I'll go get us something'. Be back soon."

She only nodded, and he left the room. Cashie began to rock, harder with each passing minute. She had much to think about before Lom Trevors arrived the next day.

Sheriff Riley and the Kid waited to meet Sheriff Lom Trevors at the train station the next day. The two sheriffs greeted one another and shook hands.

When the Wyoming sheriff saw Kid, he immediately wrapped his arms around the former outlaw and gave him a comforting hug.

"I'm so sorry about Heyes," he said. "I can't imagine what you and Cashie must be going through."

Kid shook his head and tried hard to blink back the tears. "I ain't gonna lie to you, Lom, it's been real hard. Real hard."

"And Cashie? How's she takin' it?"

The Kid exchanged a look with Sheriff Riley. He shook his head again. "Real bad. You know how close her and Heyes were. And to have just been married…"

"Yeah, that's what I heard. Don't see how it could 'ave been worse for her."

They started walking toward Sheriff Riley's office. Lom was carrying a briefcase along with an overnight bag. The Kid figured the amnesty papers must be in the briefcase.

Once they reached the sheriff's office, Lom laid the case on the sheriff's desk and opened it.

"Well, let's get to it. I suppose you'll be real glad to see these," he said as he pulled out three large envelopes. He handed all three to the Kid. "There's one for you, one for Cashie…" He paused a moment before adding, "…and one for Heyes, posthumously."

Kid held the three envelopes in his hands, feeling they were worth more than any gold.

"Well, open them up!" Riley urged him. "This is what you've worked and waited for so long. Let's see 'em."

The Kid laughed and started opening the one with his name on it first. He pulled out a long legal looking proclamation that read:

"Be it known to all citizens of the Great State of Wyoming that Jedediah Curry is hereby granted Amnesty for any and all crimes committed heretofore in this state, and therewith I set my hand this 20th day of February, 1886. Signed Francis E. Warren, Governor."

Jed Curry had to wipe the tears from his eyes as he read the words. He tried to laugh it off, but the impact was powerful.

"Congratulations," Lom said and shook his hand.

"Happy for ya, Son!" Hank slapped him on the back and then shook his hand too.

Then the Kid looked at the other two envelopes, one with Cashie's name on it, the other with Heyes' name on it. He couldn't bring himself to open them.

"You do know how much I appreciate this, Lom" he said to his friend, "but it would have meant so much more if it had come sooner."

"Yeah, I know," Lom said, shaking his head. "I wish it had too."

All three men understood one another, thinking that even a week earlier and Heyes might still be alive. But there was nothing they could do about it now but accept the amnesty and try to go on with their lives. The Kid knew it would be easier said than done.

"I think a little celebration is in order," Riley said and pulled out a bottle of whiskey and three shot glasses. "Don't think anyone could fault us for a little taste at such a tremendous moment, do you, Sheriff Trevors?" he said as he poured the liquid into the glasses.

Lom shook his head. He and the Kid took their glasses and clinked theirs with Riley's.

"To Jed Curry," Riley said.

Lom said the same, and all three men smiled big happy smiles.

"Thanks, Hank, Lom," the Kid said before drinking his glass down. "Sometimes I thought this day would never come."

"You and me, too," Lom agreed.

"Well, now, I guess it's time for the swearin' in. What do ya think, Jed? You ready?"

"Swearin' in?" Lom said, looking confused. Neither man had told him about the sheriff's offer.

"Jed's gonna be my new deputy now that the amnesty is settled," Riley explained.

"Is that right?" Lom said with a laugh.

"Gonna try my best," Kid replied.

"Well, you won't be the first, of course. Speakin' from experience, I can say it might take a bit of gettin' used to, but in the end, I believe you'll find the work rewardin'. Couldn't be prouder of you, Jed." Lom slapped the Kid on the back, knowing what a momentous opportunity this was for the former outlaw.

"I'm certainly glad to have him," Sheriff Riley said.

The Kid smiled. He felt good, glad to know he had the amnesty and even happier that he had the confidence and respect of two good friends that he'd once been in fear of. He thought how far his life had taken him from the days of the Devil's Hole Gang. His only regret was that Heyes wasn't here to enjoy this moment with him.

Sheriff Riley administered the oath to Jed Curry, while Sheriff Lom Trevors looked on with pride. Riley pinned the badge on Jed's shirt and the little ceremony was over.

The Kid thought it was now time for him and Lom to head over to the hotel and give Cashie her and Heyes' amnesty papers. Riley asked to tag along.

The three men walked together into the hotel and followed one another up the stairs, the Kid leading the way. He'd shared Cashie's reaction the night before with the two lawmen so they would be prepared if she went off upon receiving the papers as she had when he'd told her about them. The Kid cautiously opened the door to Cashie's room.

She was sitting in the rocking chair, facing the door now. But to his horror, she held Heyes' pistol in her hand. He heard the gun cock as soon as he opened the door.

His hands went up. "Whoa, Cash. Where'd you get that gun?" knowing full well she'd gotten it from his room.

"You know where I got it," she said.

"Well, what are you gonna do with it?"

"I'm aimin' to make things right, Kid," she said dogmatically.

"Right? Cashie, Lom's here with our amnesty papers." He held the envelopes up so she could see them. "You don't need a gun to look at them."

"I need a gun to send a message to that damn bastard governor!" she screamed. "It's his fault Han is dead! Somebody has to make him see what he's done!"

Then Lom took the lead. "Cashie, I'm so very sorry about Heyes. You gotta know I didn't want any of this to happen. I tried everything in my power to get ya'll the amnesty. I wish it was sooner. I'd give anything for Heyes to be here with us to get his papers too."

"Oh, shut up, Lom!" Cashie yelled. "We've heard your excuses for years, and you never came through for us. Not until it was too late. Not until…" Her voice broke off and they could see tears welling up in her eyes.

"I know how you feel, Cash. We talked about it last night, remember? I'm just as angry as you are that that damned governor waited so long," Kid tried to reason with her. "But, honey, you can't shoot Lom for bein' the messenger. He's our friend. It's not his fault. You know that."

"Listen to him, Missy," Sheriff Riley chimed in. "You know he's right."

"I know I'm angry, and I'm hurt, and my husband is dead. That's what I know. And somebody has to pay for it!"

"And somebody will," Riley said. "Wentworth is the man to blame, and he'll hang for what he done. I promise you that. Your husband will have justice, and so will you."

"Put the gun down, Cash. Please," Kid said softly. "You don't want to hurt anyone, 'specially Lom. Heyes wouldn't want you to do this. You know he wouldn't."

The Kid handed the amnesty envelopes to Lom and slowly started walking toward her. "If you've got to shoot someone, then it's gonna have to be me, Cash. I'm a deputy now, and I can't let you hurt either of these men behind me. Please, honey, give me the gun."

Cashie's hands trembled and her eyes filled with tears to overflowing.

"I can't, Kid," she cried. "I have to do somethin'."

"I know, and we will. Together," he said gently, coming to kneel down in front of her, the pistol only a couple of feet in front of him. "Let it go," he pleaded.

Slowly he reached for the gun, and she let him take it from her hands as she broke down into wrenching sobs. Kid handed the gun to the men behind him, and Riley took it from him. He pulled Cashie to his chest, holding her briefly before he put his left arm around her shoulders, his right arm under her legs and lifted her from the chair, cradling her to him. He turned and gave the two sheriffs a look that said he had her now and he'd take care of her, as he had before.

Lom nodded and laid the three envelopes on the table. He and Riley quietly left the room, feeling both stunned and saddened at the event they had just witnessed. They realized just how badly Cashie had taken Heyes' death and how deeply she was reeling, her mind struggling with all the emotions pent up inside her. Riley shook his head as they went down the stairs.

Kid held Cashie in his arms for a few minutes, then he sat her down on the bed, still holding her tightly. He thought about her reaction the night before and now realized she had been planning this from the moment she seemed to settle down. What he'd took as acceptance was actually some type of revenge she'd hatched in her mind. Probably this morning while he was opening his amnesty papers, she'd gone to his room, found Heyes' pistol and been waiting for him and Lom to show up. At that moment, he realized the extent of her problem and what he had to do next.

After she'd cried herself out, the Kid gave her another spoonful of laudanum and waited for it to take hold. He laid her down on the bed and covered her with the quilt. When she was asleep, he kissed her on the forehead and left, heading for the sheriff's office.

Jed Curry sheepishly opened the door and came into the room where Sheriff Lom Trevors and Sheriff Hank Riley were discussing what had happened in Cashie's room.

"She's sleepin' now. I gave her some more laudanum. That should keep her out of trouble for a while." He let out a deep sigh. "I'm so sorry, fellas. I had no idea she'd do anything like that, but maybe I should have."

"Naw," Riley said. "Neither of us knew she was that…" He didn't know what to call it, didn't want to say what he was thinking.

"I'm just sorry things turned out this way, Kid," Lom added. "I don't blame her for what she did. She's obviously tortured by what happened to Heyes. And you…you've got a real problem to deal with, my friend."

Jed sat down and exhaled all the tension he'd kept pent up since they found Cashie with the gun. His first act as a deputy, and it had to be talking a gun out of his best friend's widow's hands. There was only one thing left to do.

"Hank, I need to ask a favor," he said.

"Sure, anything."

"I've got to secure Heyes' and Cashie's guns. I've got to lock up anything and everything she might get her hands on and try to hurt someone…or herself."

He dropped his head into his hands, shook his head and brushed his fingers through his hair. Then he looked up at his two friends and mentors. "Any suggestions?"

"Has she been this bad all along?" Lom asked.

"No. At first, sure, she was traumatized, crying, couldn't accept what had happened. That seemed pretty normal."

"He's been so good with her, Sheriff," Riley said to Trevors. "Patient, caring. Been there for her every minute until he was ragged himself. I had to make him take some time for hisself. And we thought she had turned a corner for a while…"

"Yeah, then she sort of changed. Moody, wouldn't talk much. We've had to just about force her to eat, but then she kind of settled into an acceptance that she had to eat a little and she didn't fight us or have much to say at all. Now this…I don't know what to do. Anything you fellas can suggest, well, I'd sure appreciate it."

"Grief can do strange things to one," Lom said. "She and Heyes…and on their wedding day…I can't begin to imagine what's she's going through. Sorry, Kid."

"I think we should get Doc Martin over to see her. Tell him what just happened, and see what he thinks."

"I think so, too," the Kid agreed. "But first, let me get those guns and let's lock 'em up in your safe. I'll have to be real careful about mine, too."

"Sure," Riley said.

The Kid turned to Lom. "Are you still plannin' on spendin' the night?"

The Wyoming sheriff shook his head with a sadness. "I was hopin' to spend some time with you two, but if my presence is going to be bad for her, then I guess I'll see when the next train leaves and get on it. I'm sorry, Kid. I really am."

"No fault of your own," Kid replied and put his hand on his friend's shoulder. "I thank you so much for bringing those amnesty papers personally. I'll keep 'em safe, and maybe someday Cashie'll feel more like lookin' at 'em and appreciate 'em. I certainly do, and I know Heyes would be thankful too."

"You're quite welcome, Deputy Curry," Lom said with a smile.

"It was good to meet ya after all the good things I'd heard about ya," Sheriff Riley said and shook hands with his counterpart. "I'm sorry things took this turn as well."

Lom left the office, and Kid sat there pondering all that had happened that morning. Then he left to go get Heyes' gunbelt as well as Cashie's and her Derringer. He had to make sure she couldn't get her hands on them again.

Kid checked on Cashie first and was glad to see she was still sleeping. It was the perfect opportunity for him to retrieve all the weapons in his room.

But first, he picked up the three envelopes with the precious amnesty papers in them and took them to his room. He hid them under some clothes in the bottom dresser drawer.

Then he grabbed Cashie's gun and holster, Heyes' holster and Cashie's little Derringer that she usually kept hidden on her person. They hadn't had need of any of these weapons since they were put in jail on Christmas Day. When the trial was over, Sheriff Riley had given them their things back, but they'd still had no need of them. So, everything had been kept in his and Heyes' room.

Except now it was only his room. Heyes was dead over a week now, and Cashie had gone into his room to retrieve Heyes' gun intending to shoot Lom in revenge for Heyes' death. In their worst days as outlaws, the Kid didn't think he'd ever heard or considered such a bizare turn of events. Again, he thought about his and Heyes' parents being murdered. This was as close a time to that awful one as he could remember.

The Kid wrapped all the weapons in a blanket, thinking it not best to be walking down the street with them in view. He certainly didn't want anyone else to know what had happened, or nearly happened, that morning.

He went into the sheriff's office and laid the blanket on Riley's desk. Together, they unrolled the blanket and then added these last weapons to Heyes' gun, already locked in the safe.

"Thanks, Hank. I appreciate this, and I hope we can keep what happened between us and maybe the doc."

"Of course," Riley said. "While you were gone, I spoke to him and told him the turn Missy has taken. He said he'd be glad to take a look at her whenever you thought it would be a good time."

The kid shook his head. "A good time. I don't know if there'll ever be another 'good time,' Hank." His pain was clear in the expression on his face.

"Don't give up," the sheriff said as he put his hand on his new deputy's arm. "I'm not."

"Well, no offense, but you're not quite as close to the situation as I am."

"I realize that. Just know I'm on your side, as is the doc and Reverend Finke and several others in this town. We'll all be glad to help any way we can, not just for her, but you too."

"I do appreciate that. It means a lot to me. So what happens now? What can I do to earn my job?"

"We'll get to that," he answered. "First, let me say that I think I should be the only one to interact with Wentworth. His trial is bein' set right now. I'll let you know when I find out for sure."

"I think you're right, Hank. Last thing I need is to come eyeball to eyeball with that man, especially while I'm wearin' this gun." He patted his Colt lightly.

"There's some rounds to be made daily. I'll make you a list of them. I'm sure you're familiar with the problems that can arise in saloons."

"Definitely. And I've got some experience keepin' the peace in those situations."

"Figured as much. Why don't you take a walk around town right now, let people see you and get used to seein' that star on your chest. Might take your mind off things. Stop back by before you call it a day. I've still got Loomis helping me watch Wentworth, so you can go on over to the hotel and take care of Missy."

"Sounds good, Sheriff." Riley made a face. "Didn't forget. But you're my boss now, so I figure I should address you that way on the job."

Riley laughed lightly. "That's fine. Now git on out there and make me proud, Deputy Curry."

Kid smiled, grabbed his hat and went out the door to begin his first day as deputy sheriff of the town of Martinsburg, Nebraska.

Everywhere Deputy Jed Curry went that afternoon, he was greeted kindly and with a smile. Whether it was the livery stable to let his old boss know about his new position or the restaurant to grab a bite to eat, everyone said how sorry they were about his partner, asked how "Mrs. Heyes" was doing as well as how he was doing. They seemed glad to know he was helping Sheriff Riley keep peace and order in the town now that Wentworth was out of the picture. Seems no one much liked the man anyway.

The new deputy also took time to say a farewell to his old friend, Lom Trevors, apologizing to him for Cashie's terrifying actions that morning. Lom assured him he bore neither of them any ill will and promised he'd say a prayer for them both, especially Cashie.

Also on his list of people to see was Mrs. Obermier, whom he hadn't heard from since the day she had come over to visit Cashie. He wondered what had happened, but hadn't had the time to speak with the seamstress.

"Hello there, Mrs. Obermier," Jed said as he walked into her shop.

"Hello to you, Mr. Curry," the woman said, though she didn't seem as friendly as before.

Kid took off his hat and held it in his hands. "Ma'am, I'd like to ask you about the other day when you visited Cashie, if you have a minute."

The German woman seemed quiet, not willing to say much. But the deputy wasn't giving up.

"Did something happen while you were there? Something that upset Cashie, or maybe she upset you?" he asked sincerely. "She didn't seem the same that evening and hasn't been as talkative or cheerful since then."

"You accuse me?"

"No, no, not at all," Jed assured her. "I'm just wondering if you noticed a change, if something happened I need to know about. Please, whatever you know that might help me understand the change in her. I'd be beholden to you, ma'am."

Mrs. Obermier looked suspiciously around her store to be sure no one else was there. She let out a deep sigh, then said, "I tell her about my husband, how he die. I hope it help her understand she not alone in losing loved one. But I think it was wrong to do. She more sad after."

Things were starting to make sense to the Kid. "She seemed sad to me that evening too. She wanted to talk about how we all die."

"Ja. I sorry, Mr. Curry. She refuse to take bath. Put on old dress. She need more clothes."

"Yeah, you're right. She does. Why don't you pick out a few things for her and I'll pick 'em up tomorrow. Maybe a couple of night gowns and some underclothes, too. Whatever you think she could use."

"Very good, sir. I hope in time she feel better. Such a shame what happen."

"Yeah, thanks, Mrs. Obermier." He turned to go then thought of one more thing. "Do you happen to have her wedding gown cleaned yet?"

"Ja, I do. I put it in special paper for her. You want now?"

"No, just put it with the other things for tomorrow. Thank you."

"Danke," Mrs. Obermier said as he left the store.

What's she talking about a donkey for? Kid thought.

Deputy Curry stopped by to check in with his boss after making rounds.

"So how did it go?" Sheriff Riley asked.

"Not bad at all," the Kid said with a smile. "Everyone was mighty nice and said they were glad to have me as your deputy. I have to say that felt good. Real good, especially after the mornin' we had."

"Yeah. I'm sure it did. So, what's your plan now? Have you checked in on Missy yet?"

"No, sir. Just about to do that, if that's all right with you."

"Fine by me. In fact, I'd like to drop by myself once Loomis gets here for the night shift."

"I'd sure appreciate that. Don't know what things'll be like tonight once she wakes up. I hope tomorrow will be better and Doc Martin can come by."

"So do I, Son. Well, you git along, and I'll see you before long."

"Thanks, Hank," the Kid said and took off headed for the hotel.

He had no idea what he'd find. Hopefully, Cashie was still sleeping or just waking up. So far, he'd found one tablespoon of the laudanum worked for four or five hours, unless it was at night and she was tired or upset to begin with. Then she'd sleep through the night. He certainly didn't want to give her too much, but at times like this morning, there was little choice.

He opened the door and found her still asleep. No sign of any problems. Nothing out of place. That was a good sign.

Next, he went across the hall and left his gun and holster in the dresser drawer. Then he locked the room behind him. He felt better knowing all the other guns were locked up in the sheriff's office. Yes, she was almost as good as Heyes had been at cracking safes, but it had been so long since she'd even tried and, in her present condition, he didn't think she'd be up for that anyway. Then again, he hadn't thought she'd have drawn a pistol on Lom that morning.

Once inside her room again, he decided to lie down next to her to make sure she was breathing and keep a close watch on her until she woke up. He'd actually missed being close to her the past couple of days. Even if she were asleep, it felt good to know she was close by. He knew he'd probably have to keep a closer watch on her anyway until…

Until what? She got better? What if she never got better? What if she got worse? What would he do then?

All these thoughts were crowding his mind when he heard a knock on the door. "Come in," he said, not even caring who it was or what they thought of him lying next to her.

It was the sheriff, of course. He'd said he'd be along shortly, and so he was.

"Hope I'm not interruptin'," he said bashfully.

The Kid rolled over on his side and propped his head on his hand. "Nothin' to interrupt," he said, letting out a sigh. "She's still sleepin'. I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing."

"Well, at least it's not a dangerous thing." He smiled and the Kid managed to smile back a bit.

"I put my gun in my room and locked the door," the Kid explained as he sat up.

"Good idea," Riley agreed.

About that time, Cashie started to rouse, perhaps from their voices or maybe the drug had worn off. She moved about a bit, then rolled over onto her back. Her eyes opened to find two pairs staring at her. She was somewhat groggy still, and they couldn't be sure what she remembered from the morning.

"You two, again," she groaned, wiping her eyes and pushing her hair out of her face.

"Yeah, we just love to watch you sleep," the Kid tried to joke but failed miserably.

"What do you remember?" the sheriff asked.

"About what?" she said tersely.

"About this morning," the Kid answered.

Cashie looked at him, trying to get her bearings and push the fog from her brain that the laudanum always brought. It took a few minutes before she remembered what she'd done.

"Where's Lom?" was her first question.

"He's gone. Took the evenin' train out of town. Said he didn't want to upset you anymore than he already had," Kid explained.

Cashie let out a sigh and closed her eyes. "Does he hate me?"

"No, Cash, he doesn't hate you. He understands. But…you gave us all a dreadful fright. You do know that, don'tcha?"

She didn't immediately reply, so he went on. "The guns are gone. They're locked up just in case you get the urge to pull another stunt like that. We all know you're grieving', but you could o' hurt somebody or hurt yourself this mornin'."

"Where'd you put 'em?" she asked, her mouth in a pout.

"Woman, do I look like an idiot? Do you really think I'm gonna tell you that? Or him?" He pointed to the sheriff. "We're not as stupid as you must think, and damn it all, we are gonna keep you safe, even if it's from yourself!"

Jed's voice was firm and much louder than he'd normally speak to her. But enough was enough. She'd put herself and three lawmen in danger that morning. Somebody had to talk some sense into her, and he figured he was the one who ought to do it.

She had no comeback, so both men hoped he'd gotten through to her. Neither knew what to say until she gave them some idea what she was feeling or what she wanted to do next.

Finally, she said, "Could you two give me some privacy for a few minutes."

"Why? What are plannin' to do now?" Kid asked.

She looked at him with fire in her eyes. "Well, if you must know, I've gotta go piss! You gonna watch me do that, too!"

The sheriff was both embarrassed and amused. "I think that's our cue to leave," he said to his deputy.

Jed tried not to smile as he got up and left the room with his boss. He gave Cashie one final look as if to say, 'You better not try anything.' Then he closed the door behind him and joined Riley in the hallway.

"Didn't expect that one," he said to his boss. Both men chortled slightly.

"At least she seems to have some spirit about her."

"Yeah, well, she can be stubborn and sassy when she wants to be," the Kid informed Riley.

"Heyes said the same thing, about her bein' stubborn, I mean."

Simply saying his name brought a soberness to the two men. They were silent until Cashie opened the door and ushered them back into her room.

"I hope you're satisfied," she said sarcastically.

Kid sat down at the end of the bed and locked eyes with Cashie. After a moment, he said, "Hank, how 'bout you go get us some supper. Would ya?"

The sheriff got his deputy's drift. "Sure, and I'll take my time at it. No hurry."

"Yep. No hurry," the Kid repeated, still looking directly at Cashie.

When the sheriff had left, Cashie turned her back to Jed and pretended to look out the window.

"I guess you're mad at me, huh?" the deputy said.

"Why would you think that?"

"Because I know you, and I know the tone of your voice, and I know you don't like to be, shall we say, 'managed.'"

She didn't answer, so he continued.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you, but honestly, Cash, you know, or you should know, that everything I've done has been for your benefit, not mine. I can't let you have access to guns if you're gonna point them at people and threaten to kill 'em.

"I know you're hurtin' and I knew tellin' you about the amnesty was gonna set you off, but I never dreamed you'd threaten Lom Trevors, who has been our friend and our go-between with the governor since the first day we decided to try for amnesty. It wasn't his fault it took so long. It was them blasted governors."

Cashie took in a deep breath and blew it out. Then she sat down on the bed too. Still she said nothing.

Finally, the Kid had waited long enough. "Well, do you have anything to say to me?"

Cashie had a demure look on her face, her head lowered, her eyes averted. "I don't know what to say, Kid. I don't know what come over me." She finally looked up into his eyes. "I'm not myself, you know that."

"I do, and I understand to a point, until you go wavin' guns around and threatenin' people."

She fidgeted, trying to figure what to say in her defense.

"I feel so helpless most of the time. I'm angry, but there's nothin' I can do. I've cried a bucket of tears, and nothin' seems to help. I know you care and you're tryin' to help, but…"

There was an awkward silence before Jed finished her sentence for her. "But I'm not him." He looked away, trying not to let her see his emotions, trying to take her words "with a grain of salt."

"I'm sorry about this morning. It was wrong, I know that. And I'm sorry I put you in that position."

"You do know if the men you threatened didn't care so much about you, you might be in jail right now, don'tcha?"

She nodded, regret on her face.

"Right now, it stays between you, me, Hank and Lom. And we want Doc Martin to take a look at you. We feel he needs to know about it, too."

She looked up, her brows knitted with confusion. "You want me to see the doctor?"

"Well, of course. He's been treatin' you ever since…and he needs to know everything that's been goin' on with you, includin' this mornin'."

She didn't argue with him.

"He said he'd see you whenever it was a good time. Do you think that could be tomorrow? I mean, would you let him come over and take a look at you then?"

She nodded, then the tears started again. "I'm sorry to be such a bother."

"You're not a bother," he said, scooting over to sit beside her, his arm going around her shoulders and pulling her over to him. "Don't ever call yourself that." He kissed her cheek gently.

Then Sheriff Riley returned, knocking on the door and asking, "Is it safe to come in?"

Jed laughed. "Yeah, it's safe. Come on in."

Riley could tell by the fact they were sitting beside each other and Jed had his arm around her that the fireworks were over.

"Got you some good beef stew, some bread and a piece of apple pie apiece," he said setting the plates down on the table. "Eat up."

Jed looked up at his boss and said, "I'm gonna owe you a fortune for all this food you've been deliverin'."

"Naw, just consider it part of your pay, Deputy."

"Thanks, boss," Jed said with a smile.

"Well, I'm not gonna linger. You eat up, Missy, and I'll talk to you both tomorrow."

Jed walked into the hall with Riley and pulled the door to but not shut.

"I'm gonna stay with her tonight and keep a watch on her. I figure it'll be safer for everyone that way."

"All right, if you feel the need. We sure don't want anything else happening like this mornin'."

"Definitely. Thanks, Hank. See ya in the morning."

"Sure thing."

Riley left and Jed returned to the room to find Cashie already eating her plate of food. He was pleased.

"Well, look at you, eatin' without being begged or bribed."

"You out there talkin' about me again?"

"Nothin' bad. I just told Hank I was gonna stay over here tonight. That all right with you?"

She sighed. "I guess so. You probably don't want to let me out of your sight."

"Not until I'm sure you're not gonna pull another stunt like that one, or worse."

"What could be worse?" she asked.

He didn't want to tell her, give her any ideas, that he was afraid the next time she might try to hurt herself instead of others.

"Nothin' I hope."

They finished their meals in silence. Jed was happy to see she ate most of her stew and even took a few bites of the pie. As far as he knew, she hadn't eaten all day, so he wasn't too surprised.

When they had finished supper and he'd cleared the dishes, he wondered if she might like to see the amnesty papers now, but she shook her head.

"I saw mine," he said, "and it looked mighty sweet to me. I'm sure yours is the same, and…and Heyes got one too, posthumously, Lom said."

He figured she knew what that word meant, but she didn't say anything.

"I think Heyes would be real pleased to have a paper clearing his slate just like ours, don't ya think?"

She didn't answer, but did nod her head slightly. Jed knew talking about Heyes would be difficult for a long time, but he couldn't simply pretend the man had never existed. It made him feel better to talk about his partner, but he could understand why it made her feel worse.

"Well, whenever you're ready to see the papers, I have them safe in my room. No rush."

"Thanks," she whispered.

"For what?"

"Everything,"

Jed smiled, glad to know deep down she truly did appreciate all he'd tried to do for her.

"So, when would you like Doc Martin to come by?"

"Doesn't matter. I don't exactly have a full day scheduled or anything, you know."

He appreciated her stab at some humor. "Oh, I'm sure you can find the time." He smiled as he remembered something. "By the way, Mrs. Obermier is getting you some more clothes together. I'll be pickin' them up tomorrow."

She frowned. "More clothes. Why?"

"It was her idea. She said you needed more, so I told her to put something together for you. Most women would be fallin' all over themselves to get new clothes. Don't you want them?"

"I hadn't thought about it. Guess I could use some more things."

She got this sad look in her eyes, and Jed figured he knew what that was all about.

"Does she have my wedding dress cleaned?"

"Yeah. She's gonna put it with the other things. I wasn't sure if I should mention it or not. I'm glad you did. She said she wrapped it in some special paper for you."

Cashie nodded. "She means well."

"Yeah. She also told me what went wrong the day she came over before. She was only tryin' to help."

"I know."

He moved over to the bed, took his boots off and lay down on top of the covers. Then he motioned for her to come join him. He was surprised but glad when she did. He wrapped one arm around her and they just lay there looking up at the ceiling.

"Anything you want to talk about?" he asked.

"No," she said.

"Because you know you can, talk to me, that is."

"I know."

"How long have we been friends?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"About eight years, I guess."

He took her hand and entwined his fingers with hers. "Friends forever," he whispered.

"Friends forever," she replied.

Jed Curry smiled. Considering how the day began, he felt it was a good ending.


	13. Chapter 13 - Another Kind of Proposal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Cashie's latest episode of grief and madness, the elders of the town discuss how to best "manage" her situation and make a proposal to Deputy Jed Curry that sends him reeling. Find out how he deals with it and if he can get up the courage to tell Cashie their plans.

The next morning, Jed got up and got some breakfast for him and Cashie. She ate well, and he had a good feeling about things. He told her he'd tell the doctor to drop by any time today. Then he left for his day's work as deputy sheriff.

"Mornin', Sheriff," he said as he walked into the man's office.

Riley couldn't help but notice his deputy seemed in a much better mood.

"Things go well after I left last night?"

"I thought so. She calmed down a lot, and ate well. Then we talked a bit before going to sleep. I got her breakfast this morning, and she ate fairly good again. I told her Doc Martin is going to stop by today. She seemed fine with that."

"Glad to hear it, Son."

"So, what do you want me doin' today?"

The sheriff let out a sigh. "Actually, I want us to have that meetin' with Mr. Brubaker that I mentioned before, once Doc Martin has finished his examination of Missy, that is."

"All right," Deputy Curry said, still wondering what the sheriff wanted them to talk to Brubaker about.

"In the meantime, I thought I'd show you the filing system and talk about some of the paperwork involved in this job. Sound good to you?"

"Well, paperwork ain't my favorite thing, but I guess it has to be done, so sure."

They spent about an hour going over forms and filing before Jed figured he'd better get word to Doc Martin that today would be a good time to visit Cashie. The doc said he'd drop by right after dinner. Jed planned to take her some food anyway, so he hoped he could be present when the doc talked to her.

He stopped by about noon to bring her some soup and sandwiches from the restaurant. She ate about half the soup and only a few bites of the sandwich. She seemed quieter today, but he figured she was concerned about seeing the doc.

He arrived about one o'clock, so Jed was still there. He'd told the sheriff he might be a little late and would let his boss know what Martin said.

Cashie gave no fuss as the doctor looked her over, listened to her heart, felt her forehead and took note of what she'd eaten. He felt of her arms to see how much weight she might have lost, then he asked her some questions about her feelings and thoughts since her husband's death. Jed took him aside and told him about the gun incident. He seemed quite alarmed to hear this piece of news.

Once he was done, Doc Martin said he would talk with Jed and the sheriff later in the day to give them his findings. Jed left Cashie still in a quiet mood, but feeling reasonably good about her situation.

That afternoon he and the sheriff met Doc Martin at Brubaker's office. Once they were inside, Jed couldn't keep quiet any longer.

"What's this all about, Hank? Why are all of us meeting here at an attorney's office?"

"Well, for one thing, Jed, it's more private, and this is a delicate subject. I've paid Mr. Brubaker a dollar, so he's required to keep everything that's said in this room confidential. Don't that make sense?"

Jed had to admit it did.

"Now we're all here because we're concerned about Missy, Mrs. Heyes' state of mind and her actions since the death of her husband. Doc Martin has just examined her, so let's hear what he has to say first."

The doctor cleared his throat and looked around the room before he said anything.

"I've attended Mrs. Heyes since the day her husband was shot and killed. She's been quite distraught, off and on bouts of hysteria intermingled with some moments of clarity. I prescribed a fairly large dose of laudanum to begin with to quiet her hysteria after the initial trauma. Since then she's been receiving smaller doses as needed. This has helped her sleep, but she has eaten very little by all accounts and has lost some weight. Again, not unexpected.

"However, her recent sullenness and bouts of anger, particularly the violence she exhibited yesterday morning, lead me to believe she is not only grieving but suffering a severe case of melancholia. In short, this is more than a simple case of grief. We don't know enough about the mind and how it works, but when this type of traumatic grief lingers, it can often take a serious turn for the patient and her loved ones."

Jed had some trouble following the doctor, but he got the gist of it.

"So, you think she may get a lot worse before she gets better. Is that what you're sayin', Doc?"

"Yes, Mr. Curry. I am concerned that may be the case."

"Thank you, Doc," the sheriff said. "So, do you also feel she needs to be under close supervision until her health improves?"

"Most definitely," the doctor answered.

"Which brings me to the reason we're here to see Mr. Brubaker. We need some advice about Missy's case and what can be done for her."

"What are you gettin' at, Hank?" Jed asked.

"Just hold yer horses, Son, and we'll get to that in a bit.

He turned to the attorney and asked, "Do you understand the situation, Mr. Brubaker?"

"Yes, Sheriff. I believe I do. Miss Malone…er, Mrs. Heyes, is in a bad state of mind, she needs supervision, and we're here to best determine how to manage the situation with as few complications as possible."

"Exactly!" the sheriff exclaimed. "Now what are our options?"

Jed Curry simply listened for the moment trying to follow the doctor's assessment and now Brubaker's legalese. He felt almost like an outsider.

"Mrs. Heyes needs a guardian, of sorts, to see to her needs, her treatment and any other pertinent necessities she might have both now and in the future. Preferably, that guardian should be a relative. However, since she has no relatives, and having lost her husband so suddenly, well…that leaves you, Mr. Curry, as best suited to take care of her needs." He looked at the deputy with those all-knowing legal eyes of his.

"Well, what do you think I've been doing all along, Brubaker? I've been at her side most of the time since Heyes was gunned down. The sheriff and the doctor can both attest to that."

"Of course, we can, and we do, Son," Riley agreed. "But as I mentioned before, you can't just take over things for her without some legal basis to stand on. That's why we're here."

"All right, then, what do I need to do to get this legal basis?" Jed asked.

"There are a few different ways to go about this, Mr. Curry. As I mentioned before, you could be made her legal guardian. However, that would require going before a judge and, quite frankly, Dr. Martin would more than likely have to state that Mrs. Heyes is incompetent to take care of her own needs. It could be long, drawn out and quite nasty. I don't think we want to put the poor woman through something that public or traumatic."

Jed looked incredulous. "Incompetent? No…no, I'm not puttin' Cashie through anything like that. No more judges or court. No way."

"That's what we figured you'd say, Jed," Riley agreed with him. "Worst thing we could do, if you ask me."

"All right, what else you got up your sleeve, counselor?" Jed asked, hoping for something easier and less distasteful.

"To be honest, Mr. Curry, the simplest solution would be…well, for you to marry Mrs. Heyes."

Deputy Jedediah "Kid" Curry's mouth dropped open, and for a few moments he couldn't say a word. He stood looking at the attorney, his eyes wide, his mind reeling.

"Marry? Did you say 'marry'?"

"Yes, Mr. Curry. It would be the easiest solution."

The Kid burst out laughing. The other men watched his reaction, not knowing what to say. When he got control of himself, he looked at Brubaker once more.

"Marry? Are you serious?"

"Absolutely serious, Mr. Curry. As her husband, you would have every right and reason to do whatever is necessary to take care of her and see to her needs without question."

Jed looked at his boss. "So, this is what you've been skirtin' around for the past while?"

Riley let out a sigh. "I only want what's best for you and for her. I know you're the one best qualified to take care of her, but you're not technically a relative, and I knew after a while if this went on there'd be tongues waggin' and unkind things said. I only wanted to save the two of you from more hurt. You gotta believe me, Son."

"So, you think I should marry her, huh? Well, what the hell makes you think she would marry me?"

"I think there's a bond between you two, and a love that may not be what she had with Heyes, but still it's there, and she needs you and you need her too. Any fool can see that."

"Yeah, well, any fool can also see that the woman's husband's not even been dead a month now, so if we were to marry, don't you think that would set all those tongues to waggin' just as much if not more about her remarrying so soon?"

The sheriff turned his head and let out a deep sigh. "Yeah, I reckon they would, for a little while. But not as much as a man and a woman co-habitatin' without the privilege of marriage. And more than that, you'd be breakin' the law around here, Son. I can't let my deputy start off his career by already breakin' a sacred and practical law, now can I?"

Jed had to sit down. He had never in his wildest dreams considered this was what he'd be walking into when he followed the sheriff to Brubaker's office. He didn't know what to say, how to answer, what to do.

Finally, he found enough words to ask a few questions. "And what makes you think Cashie will go along with this? She does have to agree, don't she? Or is this just another case of us doing what's best for her whether she likes it or not?"

Brubaker came to his rescue. "It doesn't have to be a true marriage, Mr. Curry. Let's say, a marriage in name only, until our patient is better. If and when that time comes, if it's not what either of you want, then you could easily have the marriage annulled based on the circumstances under which it took place."

Jed gave that some thought. "So, you're sayin' this marriage would only be so I can take care of her without any nasty things being said or us breakin' some law about livin' together without being married, and when she's better, we can get it annulled if it's not workin'?"

"Exactly," the attorney said. Both the sheriff and doctor chimed in with their "yeahs" and "rights."

Jed considered all they'd said, and thought about how Cashie might react.

"What if she says no? And even if I can get her to agree to it, what then? You can't ask her to go through a whole ceremony thing like she did with Heyes. I don't think she could do that. I wouldn't even ask her to."

"Not to worry. All you'd need to do is sign the papers, and we could have a justice-of-the-peace ask a few quick questions of you both. A couple of "I dos" and we file the papers. That's all."

"It's that easy?" Jed was stunned.

"That's it, Son," Riley said. "Nobody wants to hurt that woman any more than she has been already. I told you all along I was lookin' out for both of you. And that's why we're here. Now will you think about it and talk to her about it? I'll do whatever I can to help in any way. All of us will."

Jed was quiet for a spell, thinking it over before speaking.

"Yeah, I'll think about it. And if I can get up my nerve, I'll talk to her about it. But I cain't promise anything. You know that, Hank. You've seen how she can be." He looked the man square in the eye.

"Yeah, I have. If you need me to talk to her, I'll do it."

Jed's head felt like it was spinning. He closed his eyes and rubbed his face with his hands. His demeanor wasn't lost on those around him.

"Why don't we let Mr. Curry take some time of his own, take a walk to clear his head or whatever he needs to do," Doc Martin suggested.

"Sounds like a good idea to me," the sheriff echoed. "Take the rest of the afternoon off, Deputy."

"Thanks," Jed muttered as he left the men and went out the door.

There was only one place he wanted to go, and it wasn't to the hotel or the saloon or any other establishment in the town.

"Heyes, you old goat, do you have any idea what you left me with?" Jed Curry said once he'd reached the grave of his former partner.

He was standing in the warming sun, his hat in hand, but he felt like any minute his legs were going to give out from under him. So, he sank down on his knees, then sat down, drawing his knees up to he could wrap his arms around them. It felt like the times when they'd sit around a campfire, hoping to sleep in peace after eluding a posse. It was always a good time to talk and clear the air.

Jed was aware that the conversation was one-sided, but he knew his partner well enough to know what he would have thought about things. He knew the kind of man he was, and most of all, he knew how much he loved and cared for Cashie, his wife of only an hour or so.

"I'm tryin' to do what's right for Cashie, but it's not been easy. She's so distraught. The doc thinks it's more than that. 'Melancholia,' he said. Unpredictable. Brubaker says she needs a guardian. They want me to marry her. Still concerned about all that propriety shit. As if I'd ever do anything to hurt her or make her feel she couldn't trust me. I love her, you know that. And I'd marry her, but she don't want me. She wants you. But you ain't here, and you're not going to be here, so it's just a big mess."

He paused and looked at his partner's grave. He had to get Heyes a stone to mark it with his name and some pretty words on it. But he needed Cashie's help with that. It wouldn't be right to do it without her. She was his wife, legally for such a short time, but in their hearts, for years. No way he could get a marker without her say-so.

But right now, he couldn't ask her about that. She hadn't been out of the hotel room, let alone visited his grave, since the day they'd buried him. No way to know when she ever would again the way things were going.

"Hey, you listenin', Heyes. I could use a little help down here. I don't know what's going to happen with Cashie. Every day it's somethin' new. She wanted to kill Lom yesterday. She won't even look at the amnesty papers. And today they're wantin' me to marry her so I can be her legal guardian. Said it's for technical reasons, in name only. Bunch of mumbo jumbo, messin' with people's lives.

"I don't know if it's right or wrong, whether she'll even do it. I don't know much of nothin' since you left us except it hurts like hell. No wonder some days she just wants to fade away. I would too, if I could. But somebody's gotta pay the bills and see that she eats and takes her medicine and gets a bath and some new clothes…"

The clothes!

Oh, Lord, with everything that had happened with the doctor and Brubaker and this marriage talk, he'd plum forgot about the clothes Mrs. Obermier was putting together for Cashie.

"Gotta run, Partner. If ya got any advice, I'd sure appreciate it if you'd let me know…somehow."

He got up and took off toward the seamstress' shop as fast as he could go. He hoped she hadn't closed yet. Luck was on his side for she was there and had him a huge bag filled with things for Cashie.

"The wedding dress is there, too?" he asked.

"Ja. It is."

"She asked about it last night. I don't know how she's gonna react when she sees it or what she's gonna do with it, but I figured I'd better be sure to have it."

Mrs. Obermier smiled. "You good friend to her. Good man."

"Thanks. I'm tryin," he said with a smile. "How much do I owe you?"

"Bill inside bag. You can pay as you can, ja?" The German woman gave him a kindly look.

"Thank you so much." He smiled and left, figuring he should soon get back to the hotel and check on Cashie. But first he needed to check in with Riley.

"Whatcha got there?" the sheriff asked as he walked in.

"Some clothes and things from Mrs. Obermier. And Cashie's wedding dress."

"Oh, well, I hope it brings her comfort and not more distress. What about you? Have you made a decision?

"About the marriage thing? No. I reckon I'll talk to Cashie and we'll make that decision together, maybe tonight. I won't push her into something she don't want, Hank. I won't do it."

"Well, I told you I'm just trying to have your back, whatever happens. I thought we needed to get our heads together, you, me, the doc and Brubaker and see what we could come up with. No rush."

"I do appreciate it, Hank. Never had anyone who cared so much except Heyes and Cashie. We always had each other's backs. Now that he's gone…"

"I know. I know. Glad to help. Now you go check on the little lady. Shall I bring supper again?"

The Kid shook his head. "Let me handle it tonight. You need a break, too. She's been doing pretty good most of the day. Hopefully I can grab us somethin' while she's looking through all these clothes Mrs. Obermier put together for her."

"I hope it turns out well for ya. Keep me informed."

"Count on it," the Kid said as he ran out the door.

He knocked lightly on Cashie's door in case she was asleep. But he heard her say a soft "Come in," so he opened the door. She was back in the rocking chair but she did look up at him as he entered the room.

"What's in the bag?" she asked.

"Remember I told you Mrs. Obermier was gettin' you some clothes together. I almost forgot to pick 'em up, but here they are."

She reached for the bag, but he held it back. "The weddin' dress is in there, too. Are you sure you want to see it right now?"

It was a sensible question, she realized. Considering how she'd reacted to so many other things lately, she couldn't fault the Kid for asking. She thought carefully before replying.

"Maybe later on."

Kid nodded. "All right, it's wrapped separate anyhow. I'll just lay the other things on the bed and then I'll leave the bag over here so you can look at it whenever you want. Sound good?"

She nodded, and he began pulling dresses and gowns and underclothing, even a couple of pairs of shoes from the bag and laying them on the bed. He crumpled the bill in his hand and slipped it into his pocket to look at himself later on.

Both he and Cashie were amazed at all the clothing the seamstress had picked for her. All together there were four dresses, two night gowns, two each of petticoats, bloomers and stockings and the two pairs of shoes.

The Kid was a bit embarrassed at all the undergarments, so he suggested he go get their supper while she looked through the ensemble, tried on whatever she wanted to and put the other things away. Cashie agreed, so that had gone the way he'd hoped it would.

Of course, while he was at the restaurant placing his order, Sheriff Riley came by to get his own supper. It seemed strange to see the man outside of the hotel or his office.

"Looks like things went well for you to come by and pick up supper," the sheriff said.

"Yeah, so far so good. She's lookin' at all the new clothes right now."

"That sounds good. And the weddin' dress?"

"I told her it was in the bag, and she decided she didn't want to see it right now, so I left it in the bag and told her whenever she was ready, it was there."

"Sounds like a smart move, by you and her. Glad she's had a fairly good day."

Jed let out a breath as he waited for his plates. "Me and you too. But no tellin' how the rest of the night might go."

Riley looked around and lowered his voice. "You gonna mention what we talked about to her?"

"Maybe. Maybe not. Depends on how other things go. You said no rush, remember."

"Yep, no rush. I'll best leave you to be the judge of that."

Kid nodded, then his plates were ready, so he paid for them and said good-bye to his boss as he headed out the door.

It was difficult, but he managed to knock before opening the door to Cashie's room just in case she was trying on one of the dresses or something. Hearing nothing, he went inside.

He was pleasantly surprised to find Cashie had changed out of her old dress and was wearing one of the newer ones.

"Well, now, that looks nice on you," he said as he set the plates on the table. "You like it?"

"I don't know how she manages to fit me so well," she answered, not seeming extremely happy or upset.

"This reminds me of that day you came into the jail with that first dress from her."

Cashie's face fell as she remembered that day. It seemed ages ago. Maybe he shouldn't have mentioned it.

"Well, I hope you're hungry. I've got meatloaf, green beans and carrots. Some kind of puddin' for dessert. You hungry?"

She didn't say anything, so Kid figured he had said the wrong thing. He tried to turn her mood around as he sat down.

"If you're gonna wear that new dress to eat, you'll probably need a napkin. Come on. I'm starved."

She walked over and joined him at the table. She put the napkin loosely over her new dress and took a few bites. He watched her discreetly, but neither said anything until they were finished. She'd only eaten about half her plate, as usual these days.

"What did the doctor tell you?" she asked as he put the plates away.

"What did he tell you?" he asked in return.

"He told me nothing. You were here. I know you told him about the gun thing. What did he say about that?"

The Kid was trying to figure out how much to tell her, whether or not to tell her certain things, let alone get into the whole Brubaker idea of them marrying.

"He's worried about you, like the rest of us," was all he deemed fit to say at first.

"But surely he said more than that."

"Well, he says you've lost weight. No big surprise there. And he said you're still grieving, and it might take a long time for you to get better."

Cashie frowned. "I hope you didn't pay him much for that complicated diagnosis. Just about anybody could have told you that."

The Kid laughed. "Yeah, I guess so. But I didn't pay him a dime."

"Then who did? Not Sheriff Riley again."

"Not that I know of. The doc never mentioned a bill."

"And these clothes?" she asked, gesturing toward the dress she was wearing.

"She gave me a bill, but it's in my pocket, and honestly, I have not looked at it yet."

Cashie gave him a look like she didn't believe him.

"I swear it's the truth. But what does it matter anyway?"

She got up and walked around the room, fidgeting, worried-like.

"All these people, you, worryin' about me, buyin' me things, spendin' money on me. Why? What for? What have I done to deserve all this?"

The Kid got up and went to her, taking her hands in his. "You didn't have to do anything, Cash. We love you is reason enough."

"Don't say that!" she yelled and jerked away from him.

"Why not? It's true. What don't you want anyone to love you?"

She turned her back to him and began crying again. But he would not be put off. He stood behind her and put his hands gently on her arms. "Talk to me," he whispered.

"It's all my fault," she cried.

He was confused. "What's all your fault?"

She let out a few sobs before answering. "Han's death."

Now Kid was lost. "How is it all your fault, Cash? Why would you say that?"

He turned her around to face him, tears running down her cheeks. She couldn't look him in the eyes, though.

"Tell me what you're thinking," he said softly. "Remember, you can tell me anything."

"He pushed me away, Kid. He pushed me out of the way and he took the bullet. He did it for me."

"Aw, honey," Kid said pulling her into his arms. "Of course, he did. He loved you so much. What else would he 'ave done? I'd 'ave done the same. You can't blame yourself for that. No, no."

"But I do, don't you see. He died for me. I wish it had been the other way around."

"No, Cash. No." He pushed her back so he could look her straight in the eyes, try to make her understand. "He would have hated himself if you'd died. He'd be feelin' worse than you're feelin' right now. I know he would. He couldn't have lived with himself. He's a hero for what he did, a downright hero."

She cried even more when he said those words. "I didn't want a hero, Kid. I just wanted him."

He held her close again, and shushed her a few times. "I know," he whispered. "I know."

Soon she stopped crying and he sat her down on the bed. He walked over to the wash basin and dipped a towel into the water, then brought it over and gently wiped her face until the tears were gone.

"There, that's better," he said, giving her a slight smile.

She didn't say anything, just kept looking at him with those big baby blue eyes so like his own. He had this sudden urge to kiss her, and not just her cheek or forehead. All this marriage talk, he figured, trying to push the urge out of his mind.

Instead he sat down beside her, his arm holding her gently to his side. He wasn't sure what to say. It didn't feel like the right time to mention the 'unmentionable' thing. So, he tried to turn her attention elsewhere.

"Are you gonna wear that new dress to bed?" he asked. "Might get all wrinkled."

"I suppose you're right. I put the others in the wardrobe, the other things in the dresser drawers."

"Did you look at…"

"No, not yet. I put the bag in another drawer, but I couldn't look at it, not yet."

"That's fine. Whatever makes you feel best."

There was silence between them for a while, but then she reached up and touched the star on his chest. He had forgotten to take it off earlier.

"So how does it feel to be a deputy?"

He was delighted she'd asked. "A bit strange, to be honest."

"I guess so." She smiled and looked up at him. "I'm proud of you, ya know."

He saw genuine concern in her eyes for the first time since this nightmare had begun.

"You are?"

"Of course, I am."

He was overtaken by a flood of gratitude that she would say such a thing to him. He smiled and hid his face in her hair before she could see how much her words had touched him.

"It means the world to me, to hear you say that."

"I should say more things like that. You've been so good to me, Kid, and I know I've been horrible to you at times."

He laughed lightly. "Riley says I should take some of the things you say 'with a grain of salt.'"

"He's probably right," she admitted. "That man amazes me, all the things he's done for us. I still don't know why."

"He's took a shine to you, and me, too. Calls me 'Son' these days. Kind o' nice."

Cashie squeezed his hand. "Well, we are sort of orphans."

"Yeah, but we've got each other."

He kissed her hair and suddenly wondered if now would be a good time to bring up the matter of marriage. She was calm now and seemed rational enough. But how would she feel, what might she say, if he opened the whole can of worms? Part of him was content to enjoy this moment of tranquility and let sleeping dogs lie. But the other part knew this might be as good a moment as he'd ever get to talk to her about something so controversial.

"We need to talk about somethin', Cash." He finally got the nerve to start the conversation. "Somethin' important."

"What?" she asked, turning around so she could see his face. "You look worried."

He moved his arm from around her and held only her hand in his.

"Not so much worried, I just don't know how to say this, and I'm afraid of what you're gonna say."

She frowned in confusion, considering what could have him so upset.

"As you've said to me, you can tell me anything."

He laughed. Anything? You have no idea!

He stood up, walked away from her. It was instinct. He knew she was not going to react well to what he had to tell her. But tomorrow, who knew what condition she'd be in. He might as well get it over with.

"I did talk to the doctor this afternoon, Cash. Well, not just me, but Riley too. We met at Brubaker's office."

"Brubaker?" she asked, not surprisingly. "Why?"

"It was Hank's idea," he pointed the blame right off the bat. "Not mine."

"What was?" Now she was getting upset too.

He sat down in the other chair in the room, as far from her as he could get. He put his face in his hands, trying to figure a way to begin this conversation.

"Tell me," she implored.

"All right, I'm tryin'. But I don't think you're gonna like it. Sure blew me away."

"Will you stop stallin' and just tell me?"

He looked her straight in the eyes. She deserved that.

"Hank wanted me, him and the Doc to meet at Brubaker's. I didn't have a clue as to why. I swear, Cashie. I felt like a fish out o' water, like a outsider to my own life."

Now she was looking at him like he was the unbalanced one.

"The doc gave us his report on you first thing. I only told you the bare minimum before, didn't want to upset you. But he is worried about you. Real worried, Cash. Especially after the whole gun thing."

"Well, what did he say exactly?" she demanded.

"He says he thinks it's more than just grief. He thinks you've got melancholia, and he don't know how bad it might get before it gets better."

"Melancholia," she mouthed the word. She'd heard it before but wasn't truly sure what it meant.

"He thinks you need supervision until you're better."

She shrank back into the bed, not sure what she was hearing.

"What kind of supervision?" she asked.

"Just someone to look after you, see to your needs, give you your medicine, be sure you eat, things like that."

Now she was really confused. "But you've been doing all that."

"Yeah, I've been tryin'. That's what I told 'em."

"So what's the problem, Kid?"

Here was the sticky part. How was he supposed to explain the rest? So far so good, but once she heard the solution they wanted, he figured all hell would break loose.

"The problem, according to Brubaker, is that I'm not a relative. He said usually a relative would take care of someone…in your situation. Everyone agrees I'm the best person to take care of you, but since I'm not a true relative…"

"What does that matter?" she asked.

He looked intently at her, wishing there was some way he could not have to spell it out to her what they wanted him to do, wanted them both to do. Maybe she'd figure it out without him having to say it. But no, she kept looking at him, waiting for him to explain it to her.

"It matters, Cash."

She looked horrified. "What do they want to do to me, Kid? Tell me!"

Now he realized he'd frightened her. He was so worried about her reaction to him that he'd made it seem worse than it really was.

"They don't want to do anything to you, Cash. I'm not tellin' this right. Nobody's gonna do anything to you, I promise. And I told 'em they were crazy to even think you'd…and Hank said there was no rush but it was against the law, and Brubaker said it was the simplest solution…"

He babbled on, and her look told him he was sounding like a lunatic himself.

"Oh, Lordy, I must sound like a mad man."

Now it was Cashie's turn to comfort him. She got up and walked over to where he was sitting and put her arms around his neck. He sat her in his lap and held onto her for dear life.

"What have they done to you?" she whispered. "I've never seen you like this."

He fought to keep his voice from breaking and the tears from his eyes. "I love you, Cash. You know I do, but this ain't right. I told 'em it won't. I laughed in their faces. I couldn't believe they were serious."

She held onto him, instinctively knowing something was terribly wrong. He was acting more like a terrified version of his nickname than the man who had been so strong, taking care of her for the past several weeks."

"You can tell me anything," she whispered his own words back to him.

Somehow he heard her, and her words soothed him. He could tell from her concern, from her touch and her words that she meant what she'd said. He had to get himself together and tell her everything.

He pulled back and looked seriously into her eyes, took a deep breath and tried again.

"They feel you need a guardian until you're better," he said slowly. "And they said it should be a relative, but since you don't have any relatives, they think it should be me."

She nodded. "I got that much. So, what's the problem?"

He tried to think the best way to say it, but there didn't seem to be any best way, so he dove in, praying she wouldn't haul off and slap him or worse.

"Remember when we were all in jail and then you went to the hotel and you wanted us to be at the hotel too?"

"Yes."

And remember how Brubaker went on and on about how things looked and being proper and propriety and all that stuff. He didn't want you huggin' strange men and all that crap."

"Yes."

"Well…Cash, it's sort of like that again. They don't want people talkin' and sayin' bad things…about you and me 'cause I'm here takin' care of you, and then Hank said there's actually a law…Can you believe it? A law against co-habitatin'…and Brubaker said the simplest thing to do would be for you and me…to…"

Her eyes got bigger with every word he said, as the picture began to come clear in her mind. She sat up and began to physically, as well as emotionally, pull away from him.

"…to get married." He said the final words as she stood up and backed away from him as though he were Satan himself.

She couldn't even bring herself to say the word back to him. It was preposterous! Who dared to say such a thing? Even to think it? After all she'd been through…

"Those bastards!" she shrieked, then covered her mouth with her hand. She turned away and fell on the bed as though someone had physically knocked her off her feet. She felt sick.

Poor Kid watched in horror as the woman who, just a few minutes ago had been comforting him, now reeled away from him like he was the plague. He didn't know what to do or say to help her process what he'd just told her, so he said nothing.

But she was in such distress. She couldn't seem to catch her breath. Nothing had prepared her for such a possibility.

Finally, he went to her, to help her get past the shock. He tried to put his arms around her, but she flung them away with her arms.

"Cashie, it wasn't me," he pleaded. "I would never…you know I wouldn't. I told them I wouldn't…"

She finally stopped fighting him and he held her, his tears falling on her hair, her new dress. He couldn't lose her. He wouldn't. She was all he had left in this world. And no one was going to make her do something so heinous in her mind. He wouldn't let them.

"I won't do it," he whispered. "I told them I wouldn't, not unless you agreed. Never."

Cashie suddenly realized the enormity of what these people were asking not only of her but also of him. They had laid this burden on him as surely as if it were a boulder thrown from the sky, and the poor man knew what it would do to her and had only tried to protect her as he'd been doing all along since Hannibal died. To be truthful, for as long as she'd known him.

They were both victims. Both hurt. Both being herded like cattle into some type of legalistic corral not of their own choosing. She could not blame him. Just like Lom, the Kid was only the messenger.

Then she held onto him as well, realizing they needed one another more than ever. She kissed his hair and whispered, "It's not your fault. I'm not mad at you."

He heard her and was thankful she understood and didn't blame him. He lifted his head and looked into her eyes. They were clear while his own were filled with tears. Suddenly, he knew she was being the strong one.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Oh shush. You don't have anything to be sorry about."

She wiped away his tears with her hand and attempted to comb the tangled mess of his hair with her fingers. She thought how much like a kid he looked right then and remembered other times when she had cared for him through sickness and injury, as well as the time she'd first opened her eyes at Devil's Hole and his blue eyes met hers. Only the night before, they had held hands and promised "Friends forever." She couldn't blame him for this mess. No, it was others who had inflicted this abomination upon them.

He sat up, and she took his hand in hers, both staring at the floor, feeling like two tired children with the weight of the world thrust upon them.

"No more tears," she said decidedly. "Not tonight anyways. Now tell me everything the way it happened, what exactly was said, what you said. I want to know everything. Then we'll deal with this…together."

He looked at her. She looked at him. And suddenly they both knew things would be all right.

"Friends forever," she whispered.

He nodded. "Friends forever."

The Kid told Cashie everything that had been said to him, the reasoning behind it, what he'd told the men in Brubaker's office, and how he felt about the whole situation. Now that the fear was gone, he could easily talk to his friend of so many years.

Cashie listened and understood now how this play had unfolded. Everyone was so concerned for her welfare and wanted so much to do something to help her that they had forgotten about the two most important people in this story and their feelings.

"So, Brubaker said it would be the simplest solution, and we wouldn't have to have a ceremony or anything like that. Just sign some papers, say a few words and he'd file the papers. That's it."

Cashie was finally getting the entire picture, putting the pieces together in a coherent order rather than the Kid's incoherent ramblings earlier. Things now made sense, even in an outlandish sort of way. She pondered each word carefully before asking questions or making comments.

"So, he said the marriage would be 'in name only,' you're sure?"

"Positive. And he said it could be annulled once you're better, if that's what we want."

Cashie let out a sigh. "You know Brubaker. He leaves no stone unturned when it comes to this legal stuff."

"Yeah, I know."

"But won't people think just as badly about us marryin' so soon as they would about us livin' together more or less?"

"I asked the same thing. Riley didn't seem to think so. The lesser of two evils, I guess you could say."

Cashie thought about every word, every scenario. For all this time, they'd remained seated on the bed, in the same position, holding hands since they proclaimed they would be friends forever. That one thought remained regardless what had been said or proposed or considered. She looked up at Kid with kind eyes that realized how hard all this must have been for him.

"I'm sorry you had to deal with this all alone," she told him. "How do you feel about it, really? What do you think we should do?"

He smiled at her. "Cash, you know how I feel. Whatever you want to do. I've always been there for you, and I always will be. Neither of us saw this comin'. I only want what's best for you. That's all I've ever wanted. I would never do anything to hurt you, and I would never expect…"

"I know," she said, squeezing his hand. "I trust you with my life. I've had to before, and now…now maybe more than ever."

She reached for him, and they held one another, all the words said, all the fears vanquished. It was simply Cashie and Kid now, no more, no less. Friends, former outlaws, surviving loved ones of a man they both loved so deeply now thrust together in ways neither could have ever imagined.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you, too" she whispered.

There was nothing more to say. Kid blew out the lamp, and they soon surrendered to sleep.


	14. The Short Version

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jed and Cashie follow through with their "forced marriage."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I've been away a good while working on other projects, most particularly finally getting a modern day romance novel published. Still, I haven't forgotten this story and wanted to post the next chapter. I hope you enjoy it. And please don't assume anything!

Deputy Jed Curry arrived at the Sheriff’s Office early the next morning. He walked in and took a seat.

“Mornin’,” he said, his face a blank.

“Mornin’, yourself,” Riley replied. “So, how did your evening go? Did you talk with Missy?”

Jed looked with clear, deliberate eyes at the sheriff. “Oh, we talked, all right. And she yelled, then we both cried, and finally we talked some more, actually a good part of the night.”

Riley’s eyes got big as he listened. “And?” was all he could think to say.

“She was very upset for a while, but not at me. No, you and the doc and Brubaker, that’s who she was mad at. Then she calmed down and we talked it through. She wanted to know every word that was said and every thought behind it.”

The sheriff looked like he’d been sucker punched, but he had to know more.

“So, what did you decide?”

Jed was indignant. “I didn’t decide anything. No, you fellas tried to push this thing on me, but I told her I had no part in it. I was simply the messenger. Once she realized that, we were fine and that’s when we talked it through and wound up on the same page together.”

Riley let out a deep breath. “And what page might that be?”

Jed paused, letting his boss stew a bit before answering the question.

“We’re gonna do it,” he said. “We’re gonna sign some papers and say a few words, and then I’m gonna keep on doin’ what I’ve already been doin’ and everybody else better stay out of our business.”

The Sheriff let out a breath of relief. He was at a loss for words at first. Even though he had the answer he’d wanted, he knew it came at a price.

“Does she hate me?” he asked sheepishly.

“Let’s just say she’s very much annoyed with all of you.”

“I assume you are, too,” he stated as fact.

“Well, it felt like I got bushwhacked yesterday out of the clear blue, Hank. You could have given me a little heads-up before puttin’ me through the mill like you did."

“I’m sorry about that, Son. I really am. Maybe I tried too hard, but I really did have your best interests at heart."

  
The Kid let out a sigh. “I believe that. But I told you Cashie don’t like to be managed when she’s in her right mind. And I’m here to tell ya, last night, after she got past the shock and finally figured out it wasn’t my doin’, I’ve never seen her more in command of her life or clear of mind. It may not last, I know. But for now, she knows what she wants and what she needs, and nobody best not cross her.”

  
“Whoo!” the sheriff let out a long-held breath. “I’ll keep that in mind. So, tell me, what does she want?”

  
“She wants the papers drawn up today, and this afternoon she wants you, the doc, and Brubaker all to meet us at the hotel to take care of this matter. Then she wants you to leave us alone, at least for a while until things settle down.”

  
The sheriff contemplated his words, then nodded. “All right. I’ll get on over to see Brubaker and the doc, and we’ll meet you there. Any particular time?”

  
“About four would be fine.”

  
“All right. We’ll be there.”

  
Jed got up, as did the sheriff. He left to go get him and Cashie some breakfast and let her know he’d set things up like she wanted. He could hear the sheriff mumbling, “I sure hope she don’t hate me for long,” as he went out the door. It brought a smile to his face.

  
***

  
“Hey, you,” the Kid said as he came into the hotel room with breakfast.

  
Cashie was already up, waiting impatiently for him to return.

  
“How did it go?” she asked.

  
“I told him just like we agreed, and he said he’d set it up for about four.” He sat down and unwrapped their plates. “He’s rattled, Cash. Mumbling about how he hopes you don’t hate him for long when I went out the door.”

  
“Well, he should be worried,” she said indignantly. “The nerve of that man, of all of ‘em puttin’ us in this position.”

  
“I know,” Kid said digging into his eggs and ham. “Here, come sit down and eat somethin’.”

  
“I would say I’m not hungry, but then you’d have to force feed me, wouldn’t you?”

  
They both laughed at the absurdity of the situation, even though they knew there had been times and still might be more that the words might not be as funny.

  
She sat down and took a few bites. When he noticed how picky she was being, he took her hand in his and looked her straight in the eyes.

  
“Eat more. I don’t want you faintin’ on me at this weddin.”

  
Cashie smiled. “Neither do I. I won’t give those old buzzards the satisfaction.”

  
She was still in control of herself, her mind and body, for the time being. Who knew what tomorrow would bring, but for today, she intended to hold it together at least through this farce of a wedding. She owed that much to the Kid.

  
She ate a bit more, then said, “I’m going to get a bath after you leave and put on one of those new dresses you brought me yesterday. I won’t have anyone sayin’ I look sick or dirty or dreadful when I marry you.”

  
The Kid laughed and wiped his mouth. “Well, now, I do appreciate that.” He gave her a peck on the cheek. “But I don’t think you look any of those things right now.”

  
“You’re being silly,” she taunted him.

  
“This whole thing is silly, so why not have a little fun with it?”

  
He grinned. She blushed. It was a whole different atmosphere from the night before.

  
They finished breakfast, and Kid put the plates and utensils in a bag to take back to the restaurant.

  
“I guess I better go and do whatever Riley wants me to get done before four o’clock. Well, actually I’m sure he’ll tell me to take off a little early, all things considered.” He kissed her hand before leaving. “Enjoy your bath,” he said as he went out the door.

  
***

  
Jed Curry had told the innkeeper to have hot water taken up to the Women’s Bath room so “Mrs. Heyes” could take a nice bath. Once that was done, Cashie picked out the dress she wanted to wear, her underclothing and a white pair of shoes and took them with her to the bath room.

  
To be honest, it was the first time she’d washed so thoroughly since the day she and Hannibal had married. That thought kept running through her mind even as she sank into the refreshing warm water filled with suds and sweet lavender. She tried to relax and enjoy herself. She thought about the first bath she’d had here at the hotel not long after they’d been arrested and were in jail. It seemed forever since that day.

  
Now she would be marrying the Kid, but not really marrying him. It was for show, to satisfy some old men and biddies who didn’t have a clue who she was or who Kid Curry really was. The Lord knew the last thing they needed was a scandal or for there to be some moralistic law that the new deputy might break and put both his job and his amnesty in jeopardy.

  
She knew they needed each other, and she especially needed him right now. Not many men would be willing to take on such a responsibility under such strange circumstances. But no one knew Kid the way she did, his sweetness and tenderness and sincerity. And he knew her, too: what made her laugh until she cried, how to distract her when she was upset. Like that time in Reno when she’d been so frustrated, caught between Hannibal and Jason Stuart. He’d taken her riding and to shoot some cans just to calm her nerves and give her a chance to breathe.

  
Like she told him last night, she trusted him with her life, and they were friends forever. This wasn’t at all like when her father demanded she marry that old man when she was eighteen. No, this was someone she knew and loved in her own way, who cared for her more than his own desires. And, of course, she cared for him too, just not like…”

  
She had to push those thoughts away, at least for today. Kid deserved better than for her to break down and cry during this “wedding.” It might be in name only, but he had been there for her every minute of every day since Heyes died, and by God, she would not embarrass him, not today.

  
Cashie got out of the tub and dried off. She put on the new undergarments Mrs. Obermier had gotten her and topped them off with a blue satiny dress with a white sash. It was the prettiest of the four dresses she had sent. Cashie thought it would match her and Kid’s eyes.

  
See, she wasn’t some heartless cold widow. She cared about the man she would be wedded to today, if only in a legal manner. And she would put those old coots in their places, too. It still made her blood boil the way they had foisted this whole thing on her and the Kid. It would take her a while to get past what they’d done, regardless of their good intentions.

  
Having gotten dressed, Cashie walked back to her room. As soon as her hair dried, she brushed it and put it up in a cluster of curls just off her neck. It was all she could do.

  
She looked at the gold ring on her finger, the one with the tiny diamond that Hannibal had put on her hand the day they were married. She and the Kid hadn’t talked about it, but she felt sure he was fine with her continuing to wear it. He’d best be because she had no intentions of ever taking it off. Just sign some papers and say a few words. That’s all he said they had to do. That’s certainly all she intended to do.

  
It was about one o’clock when Deputy Curry came by to check on his “wife-to-be.” Riley had told him to take the rest of the afternoon off. The moment he opened the door and saw Cashie in her new dress with her hair up, she took his breath away. He couldn’t stop staring.

  
“Do you like it?” she questioned, wondering if something was out of place or she had forgotten to button a button.

  
Kid took his hat off and laid it in the chair, his eyes never leaving her image. He walked slowly towards her, but couldn’t find any words to say what he was feeling.

  
“Well, say something, will ya,” Cashie implored.

  
He stopped about two feet from her, not daring to come any closer. He hadn’t seen her look as beautiful since the day she’d worn that gorgeous wedding gown and married his partner.  
He smiled and she smiled back. Finally, he found his tongue.

  
“You look…absolutely beautiful, Cash,” he whispered. “You…you’re radiant.”

  
She blushed. “All I did was take a bath and put on a new dress. I wanted to make you proud.”

  
“Well, you certainly did that. And that dress matches your eyes so pretty.”

  
“And yours too,” she reminded him.

  
His smile got brighter. “I guess I’d better clean up and put on my suit or else I’m gonna look downright shabby next to you.”

  
She laughed. “If you want. We’ll make a nice-looking couple for those three goats to hem and haw over.”

  
He almost forgot about the bag of bread and cheese he’d brought by. “You hungry?”

  
“Not sure. What did you bring?”

  
He felt silly. “Just bread and some cheese. Didn’t feel too hungry myself.”

  
“You, not hungry?” she chortled. “How is that possible?”

  
“Think I lost my appetite,” he said, feeling like a school boy with a crush.

  
She became aware that he was not only looking at her differently but acting oddly too. It dawned on her that maybe she had made herself look too nice.

  
“Maybe I should change,” she said, looking away. This dress is too fancy for…”

  
“Please don’t,” he begged, as he sat down in the rocking chair. “Honestly, Cash, you haven’t look so well, so like yourself, since... Whatever it is, don’t change it, at least for a little while.”

  
She sat down on the bed close to him and let out a sigh as she thought about his request. “All right, I won’t change. I’m glad you like the dress.”

  
She reached for his hand and he took hers and kissed it. It just happened to be her left hand with Han’s ring on her finger. He took notice of it and looked into her eyes.

  
“Please don’t ask me to take it off,” she said in a soft voice.

  
“I would never ask you to do that,” he assured her.

  
That brought a smile to her face once more.

  
“Well, you should go on and get yourself ready, whatever you plan to do. We don’t want to keep our company waiting, do we?”

  
He laughed, so enjoying her newfound sense of humor. He sure hoped it lasted.

  
“No, we don’t want to do that,” he said as he got up and went to the door. “See you soon.”

  
After the door closed, Cashie wondered what she was getting herself into.

  
Two hours later, Jed Curry came in with his gray suit and hat on, the same outfit he’d worn to Cashie and Heyes’ wedding. To be honest, it was the only one he had. He’d also opted for a bath and shave as well. He figured why not? What’s good for the goose is also good for the gander, as the saying went. And this gander sure didn’t want to look bad beside his beautiful goose!

  
“Knock, knock,” he said, peeking around the door.

  
“Well, come on in and let me see you,” she admonished. He took off his hat and pushed the door open to reveal his best attire complete with shave and bath.

  
“Oh, you had the works, too!” she exclaimed. “I wondered what was taking you so long.”

  
“Well, you looked so nice, I couldn’t just throw a clean suit on without cleanin’ the rest of me.”

  
She laughed, then walked over and tousled his still damp hair. “I’m impressed,” she said.

  
“That makes me feel better. I’d hate to think I went to all this trouble and you didn’t even notice.”

  
Her eyes got serious then. “I noticed,” she said and walked over to him, her eyes looking directly into his.

  
What was he supposed to do? Hug her? Kiss her? Not touch her at all? This was strange territory for them both.

  
He opted to let her decide and was glad when she put her arms around his neck. He cradled her to him, but not too close. Then he kissed her sweetly on the cheek.

  
“I won’t let you down, Cash," he whispered.

  
“I know you won’t, Kid,” she whispered back.

  
They moved away from one another and decided to have some bread and cheese while waiting for the doctor, attorney and sheriff. No need to let the food go to waste.

  
About quarter to four, there was a definite knock on the door. Cashie and Kid looked at one another before he got up to answer it. Sheriff Riley was the first in line.

  
“I hope we’re not too early,” he said, and cleared his throat.

  
“No, not at all,” Jed answered in a no-nonsense tone.

  
He ushered Riley into the room, who was followed by Doc Martin. Last was Mr. Brubaker with his briefcase.

  
Neither Cashie nor the Kid said a word as they filed in, which made the three men quite uncomfortable. Finally, the sheriff had to say something.

  
“I do hope you’ll forgive me, Missy, if I overstepped on this one. We all do so want what’s best for you, and Jed. Honestly, we do.”

  
“Certainly,” the doctor chimed in.

  
“Absolutely,” Brubaker added.

  
Cashie gave each of them a pointed look, but still said nothing. Jed was following her lead, enjoying watching the men squirm.

  
“Well, I hope you’re all happy,” she eventually said. “As I hope you can see, I am quite in my right mind today. I have taken a bath, changed my clothes and I do believe I’m dressed properly for such an auspicious occasion. Since you three seem to think I am in great need of a legal guardian, Jed and I have decided to humor you and go along with your ‘solution.’ I assume you have the proper papers, Mr. Brubaker. You always have in the past.”

  
The young attorney swallowed hard before nervously answering, “Yes. Yes, of course.”

  
He rifled through his briefcase and brought out the marriage certificate already filled in with everything but the names and signatures.

  
“And you, Doctor, is it your professional opinion that I am competent to sign these papers?”

  
The doctor hadn’t expected to be put on the spot. He cleared his throat and answered, “Yes, I certainly think you are.”

  
The Kid was doing his best to keep a straight face, enjoying every minute as Cashie put these men in their places.

  
“And finally, you, Sheriff Riley, can you promise me that after we sign these papers and say our vows that you will stop threatening to put your new deputy in jail for unlawful co-habitation?”

  
The sheriff cleared his throat once more, and said, “I absolutely will. I’m so sorry. I truly am.”

  
“Thank you, gentlemen. Now please inform us what to do and when, and hopefully this show will soon be over with.”

  
Brubaker brought the papers over to the table in the room and showed each of them where to print and then sign their names. The Kid went first, signing “Jedediah Curry.” With Cashie, the attorney told her to sign her full name including her maiden and married names. She wrote “Margaret Cashilyn Malone Heyes.”

  
Once the license was signed by both parties, everyone stood around waiting for someone to say something about what should happen next. Finally, the sheriff explained they were waiting on the justice-of-the-peace, who was running a little late. It wasn’t too long after that the man showed up.

  
“Would the bride and groom stand beside one another and hold hands, please,” he instructed. The Kid and Cashie got up and stood together, clasping one another’s hands. They both seemed a bit nervous, but tried hard not to show it.

  
“I have been instructed that the bride and groom prefer an extremely shortened version of the ceremony,” the officiant stated. “So be it.”

  
He turned to Jed Curry. “Do you, Jedediah Curry, take this woman, Margaret Cashilyn Malone Heyes, to be your lawfully wedded wife, and do you promise to love, honor and cherish her and be faithful unto her all the days of your life?”

  
“I do,” the Kid said with a slight smile, looking directly into Cashie’s eyes.

  
Then the officiant turned to Cashie. “And do you, Margaret Cashilyn Malone Heyes, take this man, Jedediah Curry, to be your lawfully wedded husband, and do you promise to love, honor and cherish him and be faithful unto him all the days of your life?”

  
Cashie breathed in and then slowly released the breath to steady herself. “I do,” she said also with a slight smile, looking directly into the Kid’s eyes.

  
“Then by the power vested in me by the Great State of Nebraska, I do pronounce that you are husband and wife.”

  
And that was that. Kid and Cashie hugged one another, gave each other a kiss on the cheek, and stood smiling at the four men, who had all been holding their breath throughout the “ceremony.”

  
“Thank you, gentlemen,” Jed Curry said.

  
Then Mrs. Curry added, “Now would you all please get the hell out of here and leave us alone,” with a huge smile on her face.

  
Brubaker was the first one out the door, followed by the justice-of-the-peace and then the doctor. The sheriff was last to leave, giving the newlyweds a kindly shrug as he left.

  
Once the door was closed and locked, Cashie and the Kid fell into each other’s arms laughing like two school kids. They had pulled it off, their way, and shamed the men who had concocted this whole marriage sham for their own benefit mostly.

  
“Did you see Brubaker’s face as he went out the door?” the Kid asked, laughing so hard his sides hurt.

  
“And what was with the sheriff’s look before he left?” Cashie asked, laughing as well.

  
“That was fun!” the Kid said. “Like old times pullin’ a con or somethin’.”

  
“Yeah, we worked pretty good together, didn’t we?” Cashie crowed, feeling good for the first time in nearly a month.

  
But then the seriousness hit them. The fun and games were over, and regardless how they’d gone about it, or how silly they’d acted, the reality was that they were now legally married.

  
Kid looked into Cashie’s blue eyes; she looked into his, and suddenly his hand was caressing her cheek. “I really do love you,” he whispered.”

  
“I know,” she said. “I love you too.”

  
His lips brushed her cheek. “Maybe…”

  
She pulled away. “No, I can’t. I’m sorry.” She turned her back to him.

  
He stood behind her and put his hands on her arms. “I know. I’m sorry too.”

  
“We got caught up in the fun and the silliness,” she said.

  
“Yeah, we did. You can be so funny when you’re bossy like that.” He laughed. “I’ve missed you, Cash.”

  
“I know,” she whispered. “I hope I can stick around for a while.”

  
He turned her around and held her close. “You will. I know you will. Not every day is gonna be good like today, but I’ll be here to help you through it. I promise.”

  
“I know you will,” she whispered and let herself feel loved, if only for a moment.

  
***

  
Now that the ceremony was over and they were alone, Kid figured it was time he started to move his things into Cashie’s, their, room. He went across the hallway and started bundling up his shirts, pants, boots, coats and everything else he had to wear and brought them over. Cashie helped him find space in either the dresser drawers or the wardrobe.

  
But there were some things he felt he needed to take care of on his own: Heyes’ things. He didn’t mention them to Cashie outright.

  
“I’m going down and tell the clerk we won’t be needing that extra room,” he told her. She was still busy sorting and placing their things in some type of order, so she only nodded.

  
When he saw the clerk, however, he not only explained the situation but asked for a nice sized box. The clerk took a few moments and found him one with a top.

  
“Just what I’m lookin’ for, thanks,” the Kid said and hurried back up the stairs. He hollered over to Cashie that he had just a few more things and then he’d be over with the last of it.

  
“Fine,” she said.

  
He pushed the door semi-shut and started placing Heyes clothing, his boots, his coats, even his hat into the box. It was large enough to hold everything, thankfully. He placed the cover on, then made a final check of the room before picking up the box and setting it in the hallway. Then he pulled the door to and toted the box into the room he now shared with Cashie.

  
She noticed it right away. “What’s that?”

  
He sat the large box down in the front of the bed, making a mental note that it wouldn’t fit under the bed. There wasn’t anywhere in the room he could place it out of sight. He sat down on the bed and motioned for Cashie to come sit with him.

  
“What it is?” she asked.

  
Kid looked down at the box, and she followed his eyes. She had her suspicions but waited to hear it from him.

  
“It’s Heyes’ things from the old room,” Kid explained. “Everything he had with him over there is in that box. I know we need to keep it. I want us to keep it, but Cash…I don’t want you going through it all just yet. I don’t think it would help you right now.”

  
Cashie was quiet. He had confirmed her suspicions, and the box itself seemed enormous in more ways than one. A part of her wanted to throw off the top, touch and smell every piece of clothing, cover her head with his hat, wrap herself in what little was left of his earthly things.

  
But she knew in her heart that Kid was right. Now was not the time. Just like the wedding dress she’d left in the bag and carefully placed in one of the dresser drawers, these things were off limits for now, today especially.

  
She looked up to meet Kid’s gaze. “Thank you for boxing them up so nice and bringing them over here. We’ll find a place, and I agree I don’t need to go through them now."

  
He gave her an encouraging smile. “That’s good, Cash.” He kissed her forehead and pulled her to him. “No need askin’ for trouble so soon. I knew you’d want them close by, but maybe when you’re stronger and a bit more time has passed.”

  
She nodded and smiled back. “Now what?” she asked.

  
“Well, I think it’s close to supper time,” he said, checking his pocket watch. “Yep, sure is. How about you come with me to the restaurant, before you take off that beautiful blue dress, and we can eat together over there? Sort of like a wedding supper.”

  
Cashie looked down and away. She hated to disappoint him. “I don’t think I could, Kid.”

  
His brow furrowed in confusion. “Why not?”

  
She got up and walked around the room, fidgeting as she usually did when something upset her.

  
“I’m just not ready, Kid. And especially now. You know full well word has got out about what we did this afternoon, and I cannot stand the thought of facing people, them whispering about us, thinking all those horrible thoughts about me and you marrying so soon after…I can’t do it, Kid. I’m sorry. I can’t.”

  
He knew she was probably right. At least the doctor and the justice-of-the peace would have probably mentioned their “marriage” to someone and that someone would have told someone else and on it would go in a small town like this.

  
He stood up and went to her, his hands on her upper arms, holding her steady. “You’re right. I hadn’t thought that far. People won’t understand right away why we did it. So, it’s fine. I’ll go get us something special, and we can eat together here in the room like we usually do. Any requests?”

  
She shook her head. “You know all the things I like and don’t like.” Then she turned to face him and put her arms around him. “Thank you for understanding.”

  
“That’s my middle name,” he laughed. “Jedediah Understanding Curry.”  
She laughed with him and pushed him toward the door, both being silly. When he was gone, though, her eyes went immediately back to the wooden box at the end of the bed.

  
Jed Curry stopped at the clerk’s desk and gave the man the key to the extra hotel room. “I’ll be staying in Cashie’s room from now on,” he told the man. “She and I got married this afternoon.”

  
The clerk’s eyebrows went up in surprise, but he tried to cover it. “Congratulations,” he managed to say.

  
Jed didn’t mind. He knew he might as well spread the news. No way it would stay secret. He figured the sooner the news got out the quicker people would wag their tongues and then the quicker it would all die down. It didn’t matter to him what people thought or said. He just didn’t want anyone to hurt Cashie’s feelings. And he’d see to it that didn’t happen. He also figured most people who knew the real story would make those points known as well. Either way, as long as he and Cashie and God knew what was going on, they could get through anything.

  
After that, he ventured over to the restaurant to pick up supper. Only a few people said anything to him in the way of congratulations, so he knew the number of people who knew was small. He was glad not to run into Hank Riley, the Doc or any of the others who were at the wedding. He found out the specials of the day and decided to order two steaks with potatoes and peas. And he got them each a piece of cake to go along with it. Might not be wedding cake, but it would still be good.

  
When he came back in, Cashie was sitting in the rocking chair, waiting. He was glad to see she hadn’t bothered the box that held Heyes’ clothes.

  
“How does steak, potatoes and peas sound, with cake?” he asked her.

  
She smiled but only slightly. “Sounds good.”

  
He didn’t have to ask her to come join him at the table. He poured them some water and uncovered the plates. He’d even had sauce put on her steak, just the way she liked it.  
“It looks good,” she said, but didn’t seem as bubbly as she had been earlier in the day.

  
“You all right?” he asked.

  
She thought a moment and looked into his blue eyes. “Just tired, I think. This long day must be catching up with me.”

  
He gave her an understanding smile and said, “Me too. All that drama earlier took a lot out of us, fun as it might have been, and then moving the stuff from one room to another. Maybe this supper will perk us up a bit.”

  
“Maybe,” she whispered.

  
They began eating, the Kid swallowing his food nearly whole, Cashie picking through hers. As always, the Kid took careful note. When she left about half her steak, he offered to eat it for her if she’d eat the piece of cake. The bargain worked.

  
Suddenly Cashie realized something was missing. She saw Kid’s holster laying on the top of the dresser, but she didn’t see his Colt.

  
“Where’s your gun?” she asked.

  
He gave her that look like he had the day he’d locked all the other guns away. “Where you can’t get to it,” he answered.

  
She made a face at him. “Still don’t trust me, huh?”

  
“Nope.” He shook his head, but gave her a smile.

  
She sighed. “I deserve that. I know I do. Maybe one day…”

  
He reached out and laid his hand on hers. “Maybe one day,” he repeated.

  
After supper was over, Cashie decided she’d better get the pretty blue satin dress off and hang it in the wardrobe. She went behind the screen and took it off, asking Kid to hang it up. He did so, being careful not to look around the screen. Cashie had pulled out one of the night gowns Mrs. Obermier had picked for her. It was nothing fancy, but she hadn’t slept in a night gown since before her wedding to Heyes. She’d been so distraught she’d worn a dress every night.

  
Jed was taking off his boots and socks while Cashie was changing. He felt a bit self-conscious about how they were going to do things tonight. Not that it was any different than the nights before when he’d stayed with her since Heyes died, and yet it was somehow different. She was better and they were legally married, and it just felt awkward. At least it did to him.

  
Cashie came out from behind the dressing screen wearing a white gown. Jed was glad to see her in something comfortable to sleep in at last. He smiled at her.

  
“That looks real pretty and very comfortable,” he told her.

  
She smiled back. “Thanks. It’s one of those new gowns. I figured it was time to stop sleeping in my regular clothes.”

  
“Me too,” he said and then realized how that might could have been taken the wrong way. “I just mean…it would be more comfortable for you.”

  
She laughed lightly. “I know what you meant. Don’t get all awkward and jittery on me now.”

  
He turned away and laughed too. “Sorry.”

  
She crawled over the bed and got under the covers, preferring the left side. He wasn’t sure what he ought to do as far as what to take off or leave on or exactly where he should sleep. This wasn’t like the nights when she’d been out of her head or asleep and he’d just lain down beside her to keep watch and protect her. They were both in their right minds, she wasn’t crying, and he wasn’t especially protecting as much as being there with her, all legally married and all.

  
He sat there thinking about these things so long that she got worried and asked, “You all right, Kid?”

  
“I don’t know,” he told her honestly.

  
“What’s wrong?” she asked.

 

  
“He laughed lightly. “I don’t seem to know what I should do. Can you imagine that?”  
She laughed with him. “No, not really. Especially since you’ve been so sure for the past few weeks telling me what I ought to do.”

  
“Yeah, well, today you knew exactly what you wanted to do, didn’t need any help from me, and now…now I guess…well, it’s a bit awkward.

  
“Since when do you feel awkward with me?” she had to ask.

  
He moved around enough that he could look at her. “Since today, I guess.”

  
“Oh phooey!” she exclaimed. “Get yourself ready for bed like you normally do and get over here.”

  
“Uh, maybe I should sleep on top of the covers like I’ve been at.”

  
“If that’s what you want,” she replied.

  
He decided he shouldn’t answer that, so he pulled off his pants and shirt, leaving his long johns on, crawled up to the head of the bed and pulled the second comforter over himself. At least in his mind, this provided them both a measure of privacy and distance of some sort, something he felt the necessity for, at least for now.

  
He blew out the lamp, then reached for her hand. She gave it to him, and they intertwined their fingers in their “Friends Forever” clasp as they’d done for several nights.

  
Cashie smiled in the darkness. “Night, Mr. Curry,” she whispered.

  
Kid smiled too. “Night, Mrs. Curry,” he whispered back.


	15. Photographs and Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cashie is consumed by memories of Hannibal and the life with him she lost, while Jed receives a photograph he never knew existed and has to decide what to do with it. Wentworth goes on trial for the murder of Hannibal Heyes.

The next morning, Kid got up first, got dressed and went for their breakfast.  Cashie got dressed while he was gone.  Things seemed back to normal between them.  They ate, although he thought she didn’t eat nearly as much as the night before, he gathered the plates to take back to the restaurant, then put on his holster before leaving.

            “How’s a deputy gonna protect himself or the town without a gun?” she teased.

             “Never you mind,” he said, giving her a cautious eye.  “You just won’t let it go, will ya?”

             She smiled but said nothing.  He came over and gave her a peck on the cheek and asked what was truly on his mind. 

            “What are you plannin’ on doin’ today?”

             She searched his eyes before admitting, “I don’t know.”

             He touched her neck with his hand, remembering how her eyes kept going to the box with Heyes’ things in it, still at the end of the bed. 

             “Please don’t do anything that’s going to hurt you.”  His eyes gauged her reaction.

             “I’ll try,” was her response. 

             He pulled her to him and gave her one more kiss in her hair.  Then he looked straight into her eyes and simply said, “Don’t.

            He let her go and walked to the door.  “I’ll be by later with dinner,” he said and then went out the door, shutting it behind him.

            Cashie’s eyes immediately went to the box at the end of the bed.

***

            After dropping off the plates at the restaurant, Deputy Curry headed to the Sheriff’s Office.  Hank Riley was sitting at his desk, waiting for him.  His deputy sat down but didn’t say anything.

            After a few moments of silence, the sheriff looked at his deputy and said, “Well?”

            “Well, what?”

            “Well, does she still hate me?”

           The Kid laughed.  “No, Hank, she don’t hate you.  I told you she was just miffed the way it all went down.” 

“Well, she sure put us in our places yesterday, didn’t she?”  He laughed, and his deputy laughed too. 

“Yep, it was so good to see her back, takin’ charge and all.  She’s still in good spirits.  We ate a nice supper.  Things are good.”  Jed got quiet then, his eyes focused on the corner of the desk.

            “Then how come you look so worried?” Riley asked, picking up on the mood.

            Kid let out a sigh and decided to tell the old man his worries.

            “She’s had two good days, Hank.  Wonderful days when I saw the old Cashie.  But last night, I had to do something that worries me.”

            “What’s that?” his boss asked, his brows furrowed with concern.

            “I gave up the room I’d had with Heyes, and I packed up his things, put ‘em in a large box I got from the hotel clerk and brought it into Cashie’s…er…our room.  She knows what’s in it.  I had to tell her, but I told her not to be goin’ through it, not yet.  She agreed, but…she kept lookin’ at it when she didn’t think I was lookin’.  I told her this mornin’ not to do anything that would cause her more hurt, but I’ve got a feelin’…”

            “You think she’s goin’ through it anyway?”

            “Maybe.  I’ll be goin’ by at dinner to take her somethin’ to eat and check on her.  I just hope to God she don’t do it.  I’m afraid it would set her back real bad.”

            “Well, you cain’t exactly tie her down while you’re not there.”

            “I know it.  I just keep thinkin’ ‘bout what the Doc said, that it might get worse before it gets better.”

            “Ya want me to stop by and check on her?”

            “I don’t know.  Maybe.”

            “Be glad to.  Just hope she don’t hit me over the head with somethin’.”

            Jed laughed at that thought.  “It’d be a good thing if she did.  Better than seein’ her cryin’, don’t ya think?”

            “Better for her.  I’m not sure about me,” the older man laughed.

            He got up and started to the door.  “I’ll mosey on over there and see what she’s up to.  Maybe apologize again and hopefully set things right with her.  Be back soon and let ya know what I find.”

            “Thanks, Hank,” the deputy said, glad to know he still had a friend to help him out.

***

            Cashie sat down in the rocker after Kid left.  Her eyes kept being drawn back to the box where Kid had packed Hannibal’s clothes and personal items.  She couldn’t stop herself from looking at it.

            Yes, she’d promised she wouldn’t open it, would stay away from it, knowing seeing his clothing, his hat, his boots, his _everything_ he’d left behind would hurt her.  But still she ached to touch each and every piece, to enmesh herself with his scent, to remember every time she’d seen him wear this shirt or that pair of pants, to pull his coats around her arms and feel their warmth.

            She closed her eyes and remembered his touch, his smell, his warm, laughing brown eyes, the way his hair felt between her fingers, the way he had touched her and loved her and given her pleasure the only way he could at the time. 

            She remembered that one last night they had shared and wished they had not waited for that final moment when they could have been completely one.  She ached inside for that loss, her body remembering the ecstasy he had brought to her in other ways and regretting they had not had that last moment of joy that could have made all the difference in the world.

            If only they hadn’t waited, she might have a piece of him inside her right now, the child they had longed for.  If only she could go back…

            But she couldn’t.  Never would be able to now.  He was gone, and she was barren.  There would never be any little Heyeses, not even one.  The thought brought tears to her eyes, which quickly turned into sobs.

            There was a knock on the door.  _Surely it’s not Kid back already._ She tried her best to clear her eyes and gather herself together before getting up and opening the door.  To her surprise, it was Sheriff Riley who stood looking at her.

            He could tell she’d been crying.  The tears still lay on her cheeks like dew on grass.  He’d been worried she was still angry at him, but seeing her like this, none of that mattered.  He walked in and wrapped his arms around her.  She didn’t shrink away.

            “Now, now, Missy,” he whispered.  “What’s got you so upset?”

            She pulled away and walked into the center of the room.  He followed and glanced around, finding the box his deputy had told him about.  It didn’t appear to have been touched.

            She sat down at the end of the bed, and he took the solid chair and sat beside her, his hand coming to rest on her knee.

            “Tell me what’s brought on all these tears,” he said kindly.

            Cashie looked into his eyes but couldn’t hold a gaze.  She looked around the room, her eyes finding nothing to hold them fixed for long.  She felt embarrassed, knew she couldn’t talk with this man, kind as he’d been to her, about such things as she’d been thinking.  But she was glad he was here and that he cared.

            “Just memories, that’s all,” she finally said.  “So many memories.”

            “I know.  It hurts, and it will for a long time.”

            He didn’t want to mention what his deputy had told him about the box of Heyes’ things, so he decided to take a simpler approach.  “Jed asked me to come by and see how you were doin’.  Well, he didn’t so much ask as I offered.”

            She looked up into his eyes.  “Thank you,” she whispered and tried to smile.  “I appreciate it.”

            “I was afraid you might not see me,” he admitted.  “You know, after yesterday.”

            She laughed, and he offered her his handkerchief.  She took it and wiped away her tears.

            “I know I was a little rough on you,” she said, trying to smile.

            “I deserved it,” he answered.  “I should have come to both of you and talked it over with you instead of the way it wound up.  I know that now.”

            “Yes, you should have,” she agreed.  “But I know your heart was in a good place.”

            He smiled more brightly at her.  “Well, that makes me mighty glad to hear you say that.  I was afraid…I was afraid you might never forgive me.”

            She looked seriously at the sheriff.  “After all you’ve forgiven me for?  And Hannibal and the Kid?  We were your prisoners when we first came here, and now look at us.  Look at you, acting like…”

            She couldn’t say “my father,” but that’s what she was thinking.  She was no longer angry at him or any of the others, now realizing they only did what they did because they cared about her and about the Kid.

            “Aw, shucks, girl, you’re gonna make me cry if you keep talkin’ like that.”

            Cashie shook her head.  “No, please don’t cry.  I’ve done enough of that for all of us.”

            Riley let out a sigh.  “Anything I can do or say to make you feel better.”

            She laughed lightly.  “I think you’ve already done it.  Thank you.”

            He felt vindicated from the day before and awfully glad he’d stopped by.

            “Well, if there’s nothin’ more I can do, then I’ll go.”  He gave the box another glance and noticed she saw him do it.  He figured she knew what he was thinking and that Jed had told him all about it.

            “Don’t do anything that might cause you more hurt,” he said, confirming what Jed had already told her twice before.

            She made a face that said she understood.  “I promise I won’t.”

            Riley stood up to go, but she quickly encircled him with her arms.  “You mean so much to me and Jed.  Thank you.”

            He laid his head on hers and whispered, “You both mean a lot to me too.”

            Then he was gone, and Cashie was alone with her thoughts once more.

***

            Sheriff Riley went back to his office and told his deputy how he’d found Cashie and what he’d said to her.  He cautioned Jed not to run over there that very moment, to give her some time.

            “Probably best to go on as you’d planned and bring her dinner.  Then if she has anything she wants to talk about, maybe she will.”

            “I know I can’t treat her like a child.  I don’t _want_ to treat her like that.  But I do worry.”

            “And you’ve got reason to, of course,” the sheriff admitted.  “But you can’t push her but so far, can’t hover but just so much.  She’s a strong woman.  We all saw that yesterday, but we can’t truly know the depth of her sorrow.  I’m not even sure _she_ knows it.  I think sometimes it just hits her real hard, like this mornin’.  Don’t have a clue what brought it on.  Didn’t look like she’d touched that box, and she would only say ‘memories’ was what she was cryin’ about.”

            “She’s got plenty of those without seein’ the clothes and stuff.  Some I don’t even know about, I’m sure.  God, I wish that bastard, Wentworth…”

            “Speakin’ of the devil,” Riley quipped, “I got word the trial will start next week.”

            “Good!” Curry exclaimed.  “The sooner that piece of scum is out of our lives, the better.”

            Riley sat down at his desk and picked up the papers he’d received from the D.A. just that morning. 

            “Williams wants you to testify to what you saw.  And me, a few others.”

            “I’ll be more than glad to,” the deputy said.  Then he had a worried look in his eyes.  “What about Cashie?  He don’t want her to try to testify, does he?”

            The sheriff sighed.  “Well, he did, but I told him how she was, her condition so precarious and all, so he’s not plannin’ to right now.”

            “Glad to hear it.  She don’t need to have to talk about that day, especially in front of a crowd.  Besides, she won’t leave that room, not since I brought her back that day from the funeral.  I tried to get her to let’s go eat at the restaurant last night, but she wouldn’t.  She did at least go take a good, long bath before…our weddin.’  But that’s as far as she’s been.”

            The sheriff nodded.  “She’s isolated herself.  I did a bit of that myself when my wife died.  Course, the situations are very different.  Sarah and me had a lot of good years together.  She died from pneumonia, so it won’t too unexpected.  I had a little time to prepare.  Not like havin’ your brand new husband shot down right in front of you on your weddin’ day.”

            “Yeah,” Jed said, letting out his own sigh.  “I don’t hardly see how it could have happened any worse, for her, I mean.”

            “Well, Wentworth’ll get what’s comin’ to him.  I feel sure o’ that.”

            “He’d better,” the Kid said, touching his gun lightly underneath his coat. 

            He’d picked the weapon up from the desk clerk that morning.  He had checked with him after the wedding the day before and had the man put his Colt into the hotel’s small safe.  He intended to keep its whereabouts a secret from Cashie, for her own good, of course, and he’d sworn the clerk to secrecy.  Not even Riley knew about this arrangement.

            “Anything more you need me to do before I stop by the hotel?” he asked his boss.

            Riley shook his head.  “Just pick up somethin’ for me…and the prisoner,” he nodded toward the cell area, “and drop it off on yer way to see Missy.  Sooner the better, I reckon.”

***

            Deputy Curry brought the requested food over to the Sheriff’s Office as directed and then hurried off to the hotel to find out how Cashie was doing.  He had no idea what to expect after talking with his boss.

            He found his wife sitting in the familiar rocking chair, not crying, but he could tell she had been just as Riley had stated.  He quickly glanced at the box at the end of the bed, but it still hadn’t been touched.

            “Hey there,” he said softly, not wanting to startle her.  She smiled up at him, which he felt was a good sign.  “What ya doin’?”

            She shook her head.  “Nothin’ much.  I guess the sheriff talked to you.”

            Kid nodded.  “Yeah, he said he found you cryin’.  Wanna tell me why?”

            He set the trays down on the table and went to sit with her on the bed, near her chair. 

            “Sorry,” she shook her head.  “It’s too personal, too painful.” 

            He reached for her hand and rubbed it in between both of his.  “Even for me?”

            The tears began flowing again, and she turned her head away.  “Even for you,” she said.

            He hated to admit her words pinched his heart and his ego.  He sighed.  “What brought this on?”

            “I didn’t look through the clothes, if that’s what you want to know,” she said, her tone terse and accusing.

            “I didn’t think you had.  The box is just sittin’ there like I left it.  So, what happened?  You were in a good mood this mornin’.”

            She got up and walked away from him.  No way could she look at him, tell him the things only she and Hannibal had shared, and certainly not what she had been wishing before the sheriff arrived.

            “Some things…” she tried to explain, “don’t have to happen.  They’re just…here, inside me.  _He’s_ here…inside me.”  Her hand went to her heart.

            “I know that, Cash.  He always will be.”

            God, how he wanted to wrap her in his arms and make the pain go away.  Now more than ever.  But he could feel her pushing him away, not physically but emotionally.  For whatever reason, all she could think about right now was Heyes.  All she could feel was her pain and loss.  He’d been an idiot for thinking, hoping it would be any other way. 

            Of course, he’d been warned.  His head knew what the doc had said, but his heart had been just a tiny bit hopeful.  Now that hope was crushed.

            Before he could figure what to say or even think about the food he’d brought over, she made her feelings clear. 

            “I’m not hungry.  I won’t be eatin’ anything, at least not now.”

            “All right.  I won’t try to force ya.”  He knew when to hedge his bets and when not to.  Now was not a time to push her. 

            He uncovered his plate, but honestly, didn’t have much appetite either.  Not after seeing how sad and hurt she was.  He decided he’d take both plates over to the restaurant and have them put them in the icebox to keep for supper. 

            “I wish I could help,” he said as he put the trays back in the basket.  “Sometimes I can, but I can see this ain’t one of ‘em.” 

            She nodded slightly, but still wouldn’t look at him.  He picked up the basket and walked near her but didn’t offer to touch her in any way.  “I’ll take these back to the restaurant to keep for supper.  Maybe you’ll feel more like it then.”

            She nodded but was still silent.  After a few moments, he left and closed the door, leaving her to whatever pain was eating her alive now.

***

            Deputy Curry dropped off the plates at the restaurant.  They said they’d be glad to hold them for supper.  Next, he checked in with the sheriff, sure he’d want to hear how he’d found Cashie.

            “She feelin’ better?” Riley asked.

            Jed shook his head.  “She wouldn’t talk to me either, wouldn’t tell me what’s got her so down.  Just that he’s in her heart.  I told her he always would be.”

            He sat down in the chair facing Riley’s desk.  “She wouldn’t eat a thing, told me that up front.  And I didn’t have much appetite either after seein’ her, so I took both our plates back to the restaurant to put in the icebox.  Hopefully she’ll eat somethin’ tonight.”

            “I’m sorry, Son,” the kindly old sheriff said.  “I wish I knew what to tell ya, but I sure don’t.”

            “I appreciate you listenin’ to me, and carin’.  Guess that’s all either of us can do.  We knew there’d likely be more bad days.”

            “Yep, you know she seemed glad to see me, though.  Hugged my neck before I left.  Sure made me feel better.  At least she’s forgive me.”

            Deputy Curry laughed a bit.  “I never doubted she would.”

            “Well, anything I can do, you know I will.  Like I told her, you both mean a lot to me.”

            Kid smiled.  “Thanks, Hank.  You mean a lot to us, too.”

            “Well, I’ve got a few people to see.  Think you can hold down the fort and not kill Wentworth while I’m gone?”

            “I promise as long as he keeps his mouth shut and don’t provoke me.  That’s as good as I can do.”

            “Don’t let him goad you into doin’ somethin’ stupid and ruinin’ yer life, Son.  Promise me.”

            Riley gave his deputy a truly serious look, and the Kid knew he’d have to abide by the law he’d sworn to uphold, even if it meant not killing the man who’d brought so much pain into his and Cashie’s lives.  He had to let the law make Wentworth pay for his deeds.

            “I promise, Hank,” Jed said reluctantly.  “I won’t harm a hair on his devilish head as long as he stays in that cell.”

            “Good man,” Riley said and walked out the door.

            Jed spent the next couple of hours doing some paperwork and hoping his boss didn’t take all afternoon.  Regardless of what he’d promised, he didn’t like being alone in the same building with that murdering former deputy. 

            While he was thinking on that, a man came in from the post office with a small package.

            “Delivery for Mr. Jedediah Curry,” he said.  “Would you sign here.”

            “Sure,” Jed replied, signing his name and then taking the small package in his hands.  “Any idea what it is?”

            “Nope,” the man said and went out the door.

            Jed noticed the return address was some place in Lincoln.  He didn’t recognize the man’s name, though.  He figured the only way to solve this mystery was to open the package.

            He carefully cut the string and peeled the packing away until he came to a box, about the size to hold in one’s hand, but narrow in depth.  He pulled the top off and found something wrapped in more paper inside.  Once he pealed all that away and could see what the object was, his heart nearly stopped.

            It was a photograph with a stiff cardboard frame.  He immediately knew the two people in the photograph, and it brought tears to his eyes.

            It was a wedding photograph of Cashie and Heyes taken at the bottom of the steps to the church not long after they’d been married, and only minutes before he’d been shot and killed.  It was so beautiful, and yet so heartbreaking.

            Jed hadn’t even known they’d had a photograph taken.  It must have been right after he’d left the church to walk to the restaurant, before Cashie and Heyes started down the street heading for the same destination.  Except they never got there. 

            Cashie knew, of course; she was in it.  But with all the trauma, pain and grief she’d been struggling with since that day, she must have completely forgotten about it. 

            He stared at the photo, the likeness of his best friend and partner so vivid it seemed he could touch him.  Cashie was so beautiful in her white wedding dress and headpiece.  It had been such a perfect day, such a perfect moment in time, until…  He fought hard to keep the tears back.

            At that moment, the door opened and Hank Riley came back in.  He immediately saw something was wrong with his deputy and that he was looking intently at something.

            “What you got there?” he asked.

            The Kid didn’t say anything, just handed the photograph to his boss, his friend.  The sheriff took it but didn’t immediately look at it.

            When he did, the shock on his face was clear.  “Oh Lordy,” was all he could say.  He looked at the photograph, thinking similar thoughts as his deputy, before handing it back to him.

            “It was just delivered,” Jed explained.

            Now it was the sheriff who needed to sit down.  “Did you know about this?” he asked, looking bewildered just as much as his deputy.

            Jed shook his head.  “I had no clue there was a photograph.  Cashie hasn’t mentioned it, but then in her state, I’m not surprised.”

            “Must have been right before…”

            “Yeah, that’s what I was thinkin’ too.”

            Riley let out a deep sigh and shook his head.  “What are ya gonna do with it?” he questioned his deputy.

            Jed looked down at the photograph once more and shook his head.  “I don’t know.  I think it would kill her to see it, the two of them standin’ there clear as a bell, so happy, just before…”

            Neither one of them could say it.  _Just before Wentworth shot Heyes to death.  Just before he made Cashie a widow before she and Heyes had a chance to start their lives as husband and wife.  Just before all their lives got turned upside down._

            “I think you’re right about not lettin’ her see it, at least not right now.  Maybe one day, when she’s better.  But now, it might send her right over the ledge.”

            Jed nodded.  “What should I do with it?” he asked his friend.

            The sheriff thought a bit, then he said, “Why don’t you let me take it?  I’ll put it in a safe place at home and she’ll never see it…until she’s ready, until we agree she’s ready.”

            Jed sighed.  “That’d be mighty nice of ya, Hank.  I’ve already got that box of clothes to deal with, her weddin’ dress, and I’m havin’ the hotel clerk lock up my pistol before I go up the stairs.  I’d sure be much obliged if you’d hold onto this for me.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do,” the sheriff replied.

            Jed stood up, shaking his head.  “I’ll let you have yer desk back, Hank.  I think I need to get out of here and clear my head.  I’ll make a few rounds before it’s time to go home.”

            “Sounds like a good idea,” Riley said.  He wrapped the paper back around the photograph and put the lid back on, sliding the package into his desk drawer.  “I’ll keep this safe for ya.”

            Jed nodded and went out the door.

***

            That evening, the Kid checked his pistol with the hotel clerk and hurried up the stairs to see what state Cashie was in now.  He prayed she was in a better mood.

            He found her lying on the bed, about half asleep, but she roused up when he came in the room.

            “Sorry to wake ya,” he said, taking his holster and coat off. 

            “Don’t be.  I needed to get up.”

            She sat up on the bed, looking at him with regret in her blue eyes.  “I’m sorry about earlier,” she said softly.

            He realized she was approachable now, so he sat down beside her.

            “Don’t be sorry,” he reassured her.  “It was another bad time for you.  I understand.”

            She sidled over and laid her head on his shoulder.  He put his arms around her, feeling thankful she wasn’t pushing him away like earlier.  He kissed the top of her head.  She didn’t seem to mind.

            The Kid wasn’t about to mention the photograph that had been delivered to him that afternoon.  He and Riley had both agreed on that matter.  But he thought there was another matter he did need to tell her about.

            “Cashie?” he said softly.  “I need to tell you somethin’.”

            She looked up at him, searching his eyes with wonder.  “What?”

            He let out a sigh before he began.  “It’s about Wentworth.”

            She pulled back enough so they could talk more easily.  “What about him?”

            “The Sheriff told me they’ve set his trial for next week.”

            “Oh,” she said, looking away.  “I guess that’s good.”

            He was surprised at how calm she was.  They’d not talked about Wentworth much.  She didn’t seem to be angry or upset to hear his name mentioned.  Not at all like he did, wishing he could kill the bastard himself.

            “I’ll have to testify.  So will the sheriff, maybe a few others who saw what happened.”

            Then it suddenly hit her.  “Kid, I won’t…they won’t make me…I don’t think I could…”

            He pulled her close again and calmed her fears.  “No, you won’t have to testify.  I promise.  Riley made sure of it.  Nobody expects you to do that.”

            She let out a gasp of relief.  “Thank you,” she whispered. 

            He held her tightly, protectively, as so many times before.  Then he wondered something else.  “Do you want to be there?” he asked.  “At the trial, I mean.”

            She hadn’t thought about it.  She’d been so wrapped up in her grief, that the man who’d caused it had been like a vague memory, one she hadn’t confronted in any manner.

            “No, I don’t think so,” she replied.  “As long as you’re there, and the sheriff is there to make sure Han gets justice.  I don’t want to…I don’t want to ever see that man’s face again.”

            “Then you won’t have to,” he promised.  “Hank and I will make sure he gets what’s comin’ to him.  We’ve talked about it many times.  He’ll bust hell wide open, like he deserves, and you don’t have to do anything.  I promise you, Cash.”

            She nodded and blinked back her tears.  He held her a bit longer, then pushed her back to look into her eyes.

            “Anything else you want to talk about or botherin’ ya before I go get supper?” he asked.

            She shook her head, and he got up, headed for the door.  “I’ll be back real soon, and I expect you to eat tonight.  He smiled at her and was reassured when she smiled back.

            They ate together but talked very little.  He could tell she was in a better place than this morning but not nearly as good as yesterday.  He thought about the photograph and prayed he was doing the right thing by keeping it from her for now.  If she ever asked about it, he’d certainly let her see it, but right now he felt sure it would only make things worse. 

            She picked at her supper, but he didn’t say anything to her, glad she was eating something at least.  Afterwards, he took the dishes back to the restaurant. 

When he returned he found her lying on the bed again, her face turned to the wall.  He pulled off his boots and lay down beside her, cradling her in his arms.  She didn’t resist, but she didn’t say anything either.  He wondered what she was thinking, but felt it best not to ask.

Soon she was asleep, and he pulled the comforter over them.  He didn’t care that they hadn’t undressed or she hadn’t changed into her gown like the night before.  Every day, every night was different, and he didn’t care, as long as they were together.

***     

            Wentworth’s trial for the murder of Hannibal Heyes began the following Tuesday.  Judge Rhinehart was presiding again, and this time Deputy Jed Curry and Sheriff Hank Riley were working with D. A. Williams to make sure the bastard paid for murdering Jed’s partner, Cashie’s husband.

            Jed testified that he had gone ahead of Mr. and Mrs. Heyes toward the restaurant, but before he got there he heard Wentworth yelling at the couple and threatening them.  He told how he didn’t have his gun with him, so he could only stand there helplessly as he watched his best friend push his wife to safety and then take a bullet in the chest.  He told how painful it was to watch his friend die and how hard Heyes’ wife had took his death, was still taking his death.

            Sheriff Riley told his experience, similar to that of his deputy except that he had his pistol on him.  He said he’d tried to talk Wentworth down and felt guilty that he hadn’t seen the signs of anger and jealousy in the man before that day.  He also told how he’d shot Wentworth but not in time enough to stop him from shooting and killing Heyes.

            Two other men who happened to still be outside at the time of the shooting testified to a similar scenario.  No one spoke a good word for Wentworth.  And no one suggested Heyes’ wife should testify seeing as how hard she had taken his death.  Doc Martin testified to the precariousness of her health since that day.

            Both the sheriff and his deputy were also glad no one mentioned Jed’s marriage to Cashie.  Although some knew, it wasn’t public gossip or considered tawdry.  Most people knew how hard Heyes’ widow had taken his death.  They remembered her fainting at his funeral and knew she hadn’t been seen since.  Most assumed her partner’s best friend, the sheriff and doctor had been looking after her as best they could, so as folks learned about the marriage, they understood, just as Sheriff Riley had thought they would.

            It didn’t take the jury more than thirty minutes to find Wentworth guilty of murder.  The judge sentenced him to “hang by the neck until dead.”  The former deputy still showed no remorse and insisted he’d done nothing wrong.

            The Kid kept Cashie informed about the happenings at the trial.  He still didn’t understand why she showed so little emotion or anger toward the man.  He was more than happy to tell her Wentworth had been found guilty and would soon hang.  He even asked if she wanted to watch, but she said “no.” 

            He hadn’t found her crying like the day the sheriff had come by, but then again, he couldn’t account for every minute of her day.  If she had crying spells, she was keeping it from him.  Mostly she was quiet, ate little and spent much of the day and night sleeping.  He had stopped giving her the laudanum long ago, except for the few times she had been inconsolable, which hadn’t been the case lately. 

            They had settled into a familiarity which seemed reasonable.  She would allow him to hug or hold her and they were sleeping in the same bed, though she showed no interest in him other than as her caretaker.  Not that he’d expected anything more, but he was worried about her.  He hadn’t seen the “real Cashie” not once since the day they had said their short vows and she had told the sheriff, doctor, attorney and justice-of-the-peace to stay out of their lives.

            The Kid didn’t know how he would have gotten by without Riley’s friendship and mentoring.  Even he had to admit the older man had come to seem like a father to him as well.  The sheriff would occasionally visit Cashie, and she always seemed glad to see him, but nothing either of them did or said seemed to make much difference, either good or bad, in Cashie’s demeanor.

            Doc Martin checked on her about once a week.  His diagnosis and prognosis had not changed.  She was obviously still losing weight, even though Jed tried everything in his power to make sure she ate a little something every day.  She had begun to skip more meals, and he didn’t want to force her to eat.  No one did, but it was an obvious concern.

            Wentworth’s hanging was scheduled for one week after he’d been found guilty.  They had to build the gallows.  The Kid took great pleasure each day as he walked to the Sheriff’s Office and saw the progress being made.  He was counting the days, then the hours until he could watch the murderer swing.  He knew it wouldn’t bring Heyes back, but at least justice would be served and he would no longer have to worry about the man being in the jail where he worked or having to tiptoe around his existence.  It might be cold, but then the man had killed his best friend in cold blood and left Cashie a shell of her former self.  Hanging seemed too good for the man, as far as the Kid was concerned.

            The day of the hanging, the Kid tended to Cashie’s needs, trying to get her to eat.  She refused breakfast and didn’t even get out of the bed.  He left her there and made arrangements for the hotel maid to check on her every so often.  It was the best he could do.

            The hanging was scheduled for noon, as most hangings were.  The Kid had never cared much for the spectacle of hangings, having once come so close to watching another man nearly hang in his place.  But this time, he felt the punishment fit the crime.  The townspeople who came out to witness the event were sympathetic to him, angry themselves that this man had taken it upon himself to go against their wishes not long after they had granted Heyes, Cashie and himself sanctuary in their town.  Many spoke to him, shook his hand and stated their opinions that justice would be served.  Others asked about Cashie and said they were praying for both of them.

            Sheriff Riley had given his deputy specific instructions that he was not to come by the office or in any way have anything to do with the punishment that was to be carried out.  Jed knew his boss was trying to protect him, and he complied.  He stood with the crowd, a good ways from the gallows.  Mrs. Obermier and Becky stood nearby, as did Mr. Brubaker. 

            Riley and Loomis led Wentworth out of the jail and up the steps of the gallows.  Reverend Finke stood beside Wentworth and said a prayer.  The sheriff asked his former deputy if he had any final words to say, which he didn’t.  Reverend Finke asked if he wanted to repent and ask for forgiveness before he met his Maker.  Wentworth refused, so the sheriff nodded to the executioner.  It took only seconds for the trap door to open and Wentworth to drop.  He struggled for a bit, then it was over.  Doc Martin pronounced him dead, and the body was removed.  The Kid didn’t care where they took him.  They could drop in a pond or over a cliff for all he cared.  The man had brought nothing but suffering into their lives since the day he’d gunned Heyes down without cause.

            The only good thing Kid figured Wentworth had done was to bring them to Martinsburg to begin with as prisoners.  If he hadn’t done that, the Lord only knew where the three of them would be.  Heyes had said they were meant to be in this town, to make their “stand,” and the Kid couldn’t argue that they had made friends.  He had a good job now, and he and Cashie had a roof over their heads.  But at what cost?

            Deputy Curry followed Sheriff Riley into his office after the hanging was over.  The older man gave him a hug, something he truly felt he needed.  He didn’t know why, but he felt close to tears.  He’d thought he’d feel something else, some sense of satisfaction, but mostly he kept thinking about the day he’d lost his best friend and the look on Cashie’s face as she watched Heyes dying right in front of her.  There would be no joy in Wentworth’s death, only the continued pain the man had brought to so many in this town.

            “How’s our girl?” Riley asked after he’d composed himself.

            Jed shook his head.  “She wouldn’t eat this morning, wouldn’t even get out of bed.”

            The sheriff shook his head.  “Well, you’d best go see about her, let her know the deed’s done.”

            “She don’t seem to care one way or the other.  I thought Wentworth’s death would make us both feel better, but honestly I don’t feel any better.  Do you?”

            “Not really.  Don’t care to watch anyone die, whether they deserve it or not.  I just wish I’d seen…”

            “I know, Hank.  I keep tellin’ ya it’s not yer fault.”

            “Yeah, well, I can’t help it.  Now get outta here before we both start to squallin’.  Missy needs ya, Son.”

            The Kid nodded and went on his way.  He didn’t bother to stop at the restaurant, thinking it more important to check on Cashie.

            He found her still in the bed, not asleep, just staring at the wall.  He quietly went over to sit beside her.

            “Cash, it’s over.  He’s dead.”

            She didn’t say a word.  He didn’t know what to say or do, but he knew he needed her right then.  “Please, honey, get up.  I thought I’d feel better today, but all I feel is worse.  I could sure use a hug.”  He broke down then, his tears falling down his cheeks onto the bed sheets.

            Cashie heard him, and somewhere inside her she knew she had to help him.  She raised up and pulled him into her arms, his head resting on her chest.  Then she fell back onto the pillow and let him cry until his sorrow was spent.  She shed tears too, but as much pain as she was in, she knew she had to comfort him now.

            Once he’d composed himself enough to speak, he asked, “Why don’t I feel any better?”

            Cashie laid her head against his and said, “Because nothing has changed.”

            He knew she was right.  Heyes was still dead.  Hanging the man who’d killed him would do nothing to change that, not now, not ever.  They were both still in pain, and that didn’t seem likely to change any time soon.

            He raised up and looked at her.  She still had her night gown on, her hair was messy and her cheeks wet.  He thought how beautiful she had looked in her wedding gown that day and in the photograph that Riley was keeping for them.  She still looked beautiful to him, always would.  He loved her more than anything in the world and would do anything for her.  But love wasn’t enough now, might not ever be enough.

            He brushed her hair back from her eyes and wiped her cheeks with his thumb.  He tried to smile. 

            “You’re so wise,” he said.  She shook her head.  “Yeah, you are,” he told her.

            He pulled her to him so that she was sitting up now.  He held her a few moments before saying, “You need to get up and get dressed.  You’ve got to eat, if it’s only just a little.”

            “I know,” she whispered, “but it’s so hard.”

            He kissed her cheek then took her hands in his.  “I’ll go get us somethin’ from the restaurant.  Maybe some soup.  You think you could eat some soup?”

            She nodded, knowing he would not let it go this time. 

            He helped her out of bed before leaving, saying he’d be back soon.  She let out a sigh, wanting to get back under the covers, but she knew he’d be disappointed, so she pushed herself to find a dress and pull it over her head.  She didn’t care about all the other accouterments that she would normally wear under it.  Then she took care of her personal needs and waited.

***

            Over at the restaurant, the Kid placed his order.  A few people, who’d also been at the hanging, spoke to him and asked about “the missus.”  He shook his head and told them she was about the same.  They expressed their sympathy. 

            Finally, Becky brought his order.  He thanked her and told her to drop by and visit Cashie sometime.  She said she would, and he took the food and hurried back to the hotel.

            He was glad to find Cashie dressed, although she still looked bedraggled.  She had on her oldest dress, the one she’d had in her saddlebags when they’d been captured.  He wondered if there was some significance to her choice.

            She didn’t fuss about eating, so they sat together at the table, but neither had much to say.  She eventually ate about half the bowl of soup.  He didn’t have the heart to scold her about eating more, not today.  After their meal, he held her close to him once more.  She didn’t resist, but neither did she seem enthused.  It was as if she were sleepwalking, going through the motions without feeling anything.

            “Take care of yourself, and I’ll see you later,” he whispered before leaving. 

She nodded and then stood at the door after he was gone. She felt weak and made her way to the rocking chair.  She sat there a long while, thinking about what Kid had told her about the hanging.  She felt nothing in regards to Wentworth’s death.  Whether he lived or died, she had not cared.  She remembered a passage from the Bible.  “Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord.”  _Let God take care of him_ , she thought. 

            Then her eyes gradually moved to the end of the bed where that box of clothes still sat where Kid had left it.  She thought he would have moved it by now, but no, it was still there.  She had promised him she wouldn’t go through it, but that seemed a long time ago now. 

            Suddenly she needed to see Han’s clothes, touch his things from their life together.  It felt like an urgency, as if she would die if she didn’t.  Slowly she moved over to the box and sat on the floor beside it.  She carefully took the top off and saw his hat first. 

            That silly hat of his that she and Kid had both teased him about.  It had holes in it, but he refused to replace it.  She didn’t know why.  Her hands were shaking as she reached for it, held it, brought it to her face and caressed it.  She could still smell his sweat on it, the dust from the trails they had ridden.  She could see him so clearly in her mind’s eye wearing that hat, tipping it, beating it against his leg, teasingly putting it on her head.  She automatically did the same, savoring the feel, the smell. 

            Then she touched his boots, the smooth leather soft to her fingers.  She ran then up and down the length of the boots and remembered him putting them on, striding toward her in them, getting up on his horse, taking them off and setting them beside the bed. 

            She touched every piece of clothing in the box:  his shirts, vests, pants, and finally his coats.  His scent permeated every piece.  She drank it in and remembered every time he had worn each piece, what they had been doing, what he’d said to her, his kisses, his touch.  All the memories came flooding back to her. 

            Finally, she wrapped the brown coat around her, feeling its warmth the way she used to feel the warmth of his strong arms around her.  It made her feel safe, as if he were there, still holding her, still loving her, still wanting her the way she wanted him.

            Her tears broke loose then, falling onto his coat, his shirts, all the pieces of clothing she had gathered around her.  She wanted to be surrounded, covered in all she had left of him, all these pieces of his clothes that made her feel alive once more, made him alive to her, for no matter how brief a time.

            Finally, her thoughts went to that day when they had stood together and been joined in holy matrimony, so happy, so looking forward to a life together, to doing all the things they’d wanted to do but never could. 

            She remembered the beautiful wedding dress she’d worn, how he loved it, how he looked in his suit, the ring he’d placed on her finger, the words they’d said to one another.  It all came back in a flash, and she felt she had to go back in time.  She had to recreate that moment, and if God was merciful, time would stand still. 

            She removed the coat and the hat and gently placed them in the box.  Somehow she got up and made her way to the dresser.  It took her a few moments to find what she sought, but there it was:  the wedding dress she had worn as Hannibal’s bride.  She carefully unwrapped the paper Mrs. Obermier had wrapped about the dress, felt the satin, smooth in her hands.

            Quickly, she shed the old dress and pulled the beautiful white gown over her head.  She did her best to button every button, tie a sash, finally putting the headpiece on.  She looked in the mirror, hoping, no praying, she would see her husband there beside her. 

            But no.  All she saw was the frail, disheveled mess of a woman who had once been happy, once married to the love of her life, once had dreams.  Han wasn’t there beside her. 

            And then she remembered how they had walked down the street, expecting a beautiful reception that the townspeople had thrown for them.  She remembered Wentworth, his ugly words and the gun in his hand.

            She remembered how Hannibal had pushed her aside and stepped in front of her to take the bullet.  She could see him fall, feel the blood on her hands.  His eyes had met hers, he’d struggled to speak, telling her how much he loved her.  And then he was gone. 

            She remembered all these things as if she were reliving them, for in truth, she was.  All the laudanum in the world could not erase those memories.  And now they had come full circle.

            Cashie fell to her knees, her body racked with sobs and the pain of losing the man who had captured her heart and soul so long ago, who had given his life protecting her, who had died in her arms.

            Then, with all her strength, and with all the pain she felt, had ever felt, Cashie let out a guttural scream.

 

 

 

 


	16. Cata-What?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kid finds Cashie crumpled on the floor, and Doc Martin has no idea what is wrong with her or how to treat this baffling new development, so he calls in a specialist.

            Jed and Sheriff Riley were going over some paperwork related to Wentworth’s death when a boy who worked for the hotel came running in, breathless.  “Mr. Curry, Mr. Curry,” he managed to say, “come quick!”

            “What’s wrong?” Jed asked, trying to calm the boy down.

            “Your wife,” the boy gasped between breaths.

            Jed took off running, the sheriff and boy not far behind him.  He ran inside the hotel but saw no clerk at the desk.  He took the stairs three steps at a time, racing to the room where he’d left Cashie.

            He found her lying on the floor in front of the dresser, the clerk and maid hovering over her.

            “What happened?” he cried.

            “We don’t know,” the clerk said.  “I heard a scream like someone was dying.  I ran up here and found her lying here, just like this.”

            Kid moved in to see for himself, and the clerk and maid moved out of his way.  Cashie’s eyes were closed, but she was still breathing, thank God.  He didn’t see any blood or bruises or anything to make him think she’d fallen or hurt herself.

            It was then he realized what she was wearing.  He turned his head and looked for the box at the end of the bed and saw Heyes’ clothing scattered around the floor. 

            “Oh no,” he said mainly to himself.  “No, Cash.”

            The sheriff and the boy arrived then.   Riley saw the dress and box of clothes too.  He knew, as well as his deputy, it was a bad sign.

            “Go fetch Doc Martin,” he told the boy.  “And run fast.  We need him now.” 

            The boy took off in a flash, even as Jed picked his wife up from the floor and laid her on the bed.  She was pale as a ghost and limp as a dishrag.  He took the headpiece off and rubbed her hand trying to bring her around. 

            “Cash, wake up.  Wake up.  I’m here, honey.  Please wake up.”

            Riley came closer and put his hand on Jed’s shoulder for support.  “Is she hurt?”

            Jed shook his head.  “I don’t think so.  There’s no blood anywhere.  She might ‘ave hit her head.  I just don’t know.”

            “Doc’ll soon be here.  He’ll know what to do.”

            Jed nodded, but inside he was a mess, fearing the worst.  His eyes watered up as he looked at her in the crumpled white gown.

            “What was she thinking, Hank?  Why did she do this?  Why today?”

            “I don’t know, Son.  I don’t what to tell ya.”

            It wasn’t long before Doc Martin came in with his bag.  “What’s happened to her?”

            “We don’t know,” the deputy told him.  “The clerk said he heard a scream and then he found her lying on the floor.  There’s no sign of blood or any injury.  I just now picked her up and put her on the bed.  I hope that’s all right.”

            “Sure,” the doc said.  “Let me take a look at her.”

            Jed moved back and let the doctor sit down beside Cashie.  He felt her pulse, her forehead and then listened to her heart. 

            “Her pulse is weak.  Did she eat anything today?”

            “Not for breakfast, but she did eat about half a bowl of soup for dinner.  I left and she was fine, except…”

            “Except what?” the doc said, looking up at Jed.

            “Except she wasn’t wearing that dress.  She had on her old dress.”  He pointed to the box at the end of the bed.  “And those clothes were in that box, not scattered all over the floor like they are now.”

            The doctor recognized the wedding dress.  He wasn’t sure about the clothes around the box, but he had his suspicions.  “Are they…”

            Jed cut him off.  “Yeah.  They’re Heyes’ clothes.  I packed ‘em up when I moved in here.  I couldn’t find a good place to put ‘em, but I told her not to look at ‘em.  She promised me she wouldn’t, and she hadn’t until…today.”

            Suddenly, the doc had a clear picture of what must have happened.  “Did she know about the hanging?” he asked.

            Jed nodded.  “She showed no interest in it, in anything to do with Wentworth.  I told her it was over and he was dead.  That’s all.  Then she ate the soup.  She was quiet, but didn’t seem upset.”

            The doc sighed.  “Well, I told you there was no way to know how she would be from day to day.  Obviously, something about today, maybe the hanging, weighed on her, and she felt the need to go through his clothes and put the wedding dress back on.  She probably relived that whole day again in her mind, and it was too much for her.”

            He felt around her head for signs of a fall.  “She may have hit her head, I’m not sure.  I don’t feel any large lumps, but since no one saw…”

            Jed sat down on the other side of the bed and took his wife’s hand in his.  “Cashie,” he called, but there was no response.  He turned to the doc.

            “You think she’s been keepin’ all her pain inside and today it finally came to a head?”

            Doc Martin shrugged.  “No way to know for sure until she wakes up and can tell us.”

            Jed was anxious now.  “Why won’t she wake up, Doc?”

            The man shook his head.  “Maybe she fainted, hit her head.  Maybe she doesn’t want to wake up.  Like I told you before, we know so little about the mind, the brain.  She’s been fighting this sorrow, this melancholia, but perhaps she’s tired of fighting.”

            Jed closed his eyes, and his face showed the worry and pain he was feeling.

            “What can we do for her?”

            “Hank, get us a pitcher of cool water brought up and some clean towels,” the doc said to the sheriff. 

            “Sure ‘nuff,” was the reply, and Riley started downstairs to fetch the requested items.

            “I’m going to put a cold compress on her forehead.  That might help, especially if she did hit her head.”  He pulled a bottle of something liquid out of his bag and removed the top.  “Let’s see if these smelling salts will help bring her around.”

            He held the bottle under her nose.  She moaned a bit and moved around slightly but didn’t open her eyes.  About that time, Riley returned with the water and towels.  He poured some water in the basin and dipped one of the towels, wrung it out and brought it to the doctor, who placed it on Cashie’s forehead.

            “Keep the towel cool and wet like this.  Talk to her, rub her hands, her cheeks, just keep trying to bring her around,” he instructed Jed.  “It may take a while, but don’t give up.”

            “And if she don’t wake up, then what?” the tired, worried deputy asked. 

            “I don’t know,” was the answer.  “I honestly don’t know.”

            Jed’s heart sank to think his wife might not come out of this…whatever she was in.

            The doctor got up to leave and said he’d come back in a few hours to check on her.  He left, but the sheriff stayed, taking a seat on the other side of the bed.  Both men looked worried.

            “What am I gonna do if she don’t wake up, Hank?  What am I gonna do?”

            “I don’t know, Son,” Riley answered and shook his head.   “Just pray that she does.”

            Both of them sat with her for close to an hour.  Jed rewet the towel after about a half hour and put it back on her forehead.  They both called her name, but there was no change.  Finally, the sheriff decided he should go, that perhaps his being there might be hampering the situation rather than helping. 

            “Maybe if I go, she’ll respond to you better.  I don’t know.  But if you need me, you know where to find me.”

            “Yeah, thanks for everything, Hank.”

            Then Jed was alone with her.  He had rubbed her hand until he was sure it was about raw.  He’d patted her cheeks gently, tried to untangle her hair, smooth her dress, anything he thought might reach her. 

            Now that everyone else was gone, he reached down and kissed her cheeks, her hands, hoping something more intimate might bring her to, but she remained still.  Tears filled his eyes, and he decided to lie down beside her, wrap her in his arms as gently as he could and simply hold her as he had so many times. 

            He was tired, both physically and emotionally.  This whole day had taken more out of him than he realized.  First, the hanging of Wentworth, and now finding Cashie passed out on the floor. 

In his heart, he felt sure that her going through Heyes’ clothing and putting on the wedding dress had brought this latest episode on.  He thought back and could see how the past week she had steadily been going downhill, eating less, talking less.  If only he had stayed with her, kept her from torturing herself with these things.  But he knew if it hadn’t been today, it would have been another day.

            He pulled the extra comforter over them and prayed she would wake up soon.  In the meantime, he just wanted to be near her, to feel her pulse beating and know she was alive, in there somewhere, and if he could just love her enough, maybe she’d come back to him. 

            “I love you,” he whispered.  “Don’t leave me.”  Then he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep, if only for a few minutes.

***

            When he awoke, the Kid was surprised to find Cashie’s eyes open.

            “Cash!  Cash, honey, are you all right?”

            She didn’t respond, so he shook her lightly.  Still no response.  He waved his hand in front of her eyes, but she didn’t budge, only blinked a few times.  It was as if she were looking at him but couldn’t see him.

            “Oh dear, God.  Can’t you see me, Cashie?  Can you hear me?”

            Nothing.  She lay there like a china doll.

            The Kid quickly got up and ran to the door, calling down to the clerk to get the doctor again.  He rushed back to check on his wife, taking her hand in his, calling her name, speaking louder, anything to try to get a response from her.

            Shortly, Doc Martin and Sheriff Riley came rushing in. 

            “How is she?” the doctor asked.  “Is she awake?”

            Kid looked at the doctor with worried eyes.  “I don’t know.  Her eyes are open, but she can’t seem to see me or hear me.  She hasn’t said anything either.  It’s like she’s there, but she’s not there.  She’s not blind, is she, doc?”

            “Let me see,” the doc said and hurried over to take a look.  “Hand me that lamp,” he instructed.  Kid did as he was told, and the doctor turned the light up and waved it in front of each of Cashie’s eyes.

            “No, she’s not blind.  Her pupils dilate with the light.”

            “Thank God for that,” the Kid let out a sigh.  “Then what’s wrong with her, Doc?  Why won’t she say anything?”

            “I don’t know.  Never seen anything like it before.”

            He also waved his hand in front of Cashie’s eyes with the same response her husband had previously gotten.  “Mrs. Curry,” he said in varying tones, but still no response.  He checked her pulse again, felt her forehead.  They seemed fine.

            Finally, the doctor took off his glasses and looked at the worried deputy.  “I think you got it right, Mr. Curry, when you said ‘It’s like she’s there, but she’s not there.’  I’m not sure she can either see or hear us.  She may be in some kind of trance or had a seizure.  I’ll be honest, I’m just a country doctor.  I don’t have any experience with this type of matter, so I don’t know what to tell you.”

            The deputy looked at the sheriff, who shook his head.  Both men looked terrified.

            “Then what do we need, a specialist or somethin’?  Do you know someone who does know how to treat her?”  The Kid wasn’t about to give up.

            “I can make some inquiries to Omaha, St. Louis or even back east, see what I can find out,” the doc said.  “It may take a few days to find the right person and get him here.”

            “Then do it, Doc.  Whatever it takes.  However much it costs, I’ll pay it.  I’ll find a way.”

            “Don’t worry about that, Son.  We’ll see to it,” the sheriff said, patting his worried deputy on the shoulder. 

            “Appreciate it, Hank.  But what do I do in the meantime, Doc?”

            The physician shook his head.  “Take care of her.  Talk to her, see if you can get anything in her, maybe some broth.  See how she responds to things, what she can and can’t do.  That’s just a guess, really, but if she were my wife, that’s how I’d treat her for now.”

            The Kid nodded, his eyes filled with tears.  Then he had another thought.  “What about…you know, personal things, private things?”  He was trying to be delicate yet get his point across.

            Again, the doctor shook his head.  “I don’t know.  It’s like she’s an invalid right now, but she might snap out of it.  Do the best you can.  That’s all I know to say.”

            Jed Curry felt the room spinning.  He buckled, and Hank Riley caught him and helped him sit down in the rocker.  The only thing that would be worse than the news he’d heard was if she were dead, which she obviously wasn’t, but even that thought didn’t seem to help.

            “I wish I knew more,” Doc Martin said as he got up and prepared to leave.

            “Thanks, Doc,” the sheriff said as the doctor left the room.

            The Kid put his head in his hands.  “What am I goin’ to do, Hank?  What if she stays like this?  How am I gonna take care of her?”

            The older man’s heart went out to his young deputy.  “I don’t know, but we’ll figure it out.  And hopefully it won’t take long to find this specialist.”

            “I hope so.  Oh God, I hope so.”

            Riley had another thought.  “Would ya like me to have Reverend Finke come by and see her, Son?”

            “Don’t s’pose it’d hurt,” the Kid replied.  “I’ll take any help from wherever I can get it.”

            “All right, I’ll do that,” his boss replied.  “Anything I can do right now?”

            Kid wiped his tears away with the back of his hand and thought a moment.  “Well, I guess if you could go over and get her some broth, that would be helpful.”

            “What about you?  You gotta eat, too.”

            “I’m not hungry, Hank.  Don’t think I could eat anything.”

            “You ain’t had much to eat all day.  I know that.  You gotta look after yerself like I told you before.  You cain’t help her if you’re sick yerself.”

            Jed thought about that a bit and realized his friend was right.  “All right.  Whatever you want to get.  Don’t matter to me.”

            “Good.  See ya in a few then.”

            Riley left and the Kid remained in the chair, looking at his wife, watching for any change.  But he saw none.  She would occasionally blink, but that’s all.  He thought of all the things he could do for her, how to get them done.  He needed to get that damned dress off her for one, but he felt awkward about doing it himself.  And he needed to get some broth in her like the doc had said.  And then…

            _Oh, Lord, what if she is an invalid?  How am I gonna deal with that?  What if she never comes out of this thing?  What am I going to do?_

            His mind was taking him to the depths of despair, so many “what ifs” he couldn’t handle them all.  Finally, he shook his head, determined he would not give up.  He got up out of the chair and went around to her side of the bed.  Then he reached under and lifted her up to a sitting position, put a pillow behind her head, and tried once more to bring her out of this trance she was in.

            “Cash, honey.  You gotta wake up.  You gotta look at me, see me.  I’m not going away.  I’m right here.”

            He took her hand and kissed it, then he entwined his fingers with hers as they’d done many times before, hoping she might feel the familiar clasp and it would reach her somehow. 

He kissed her forehead, her cheeks, and then he took a dare and kissed her lips, just briefly, something he’d hadn’t done in years.  Still no response.  He bowed his head and waited.

            Riley soon returned with a bowl of broth for Cashie and a plate of something else for his deputy.  “Any response yet?”

            The Kid let out a deep sigh.  “No.  Nothin’.”

            “I guess you sat her up like that?”

            “Yeah, I figured I had to if we’re gonna get that broth in her.”  He reached for the bowl and the sheriff handed it to him, complete with spoon. 

            The Kid got a spoonful and offered it to his wife.  She didn’t offer to take it, so he put it to her lips.  “Drink this, Cashie.  Please, drink it,” he said.  Surprisingly her lips opened slightly.  He pushed the spoon slightly into her mouth, tipped it up and she swallowed.  He laughed, thankful for small miracles.

            “Well, will ya look at that,” the sheriff said and laughed as well. 

            “I know.  I can’t believe it,” the Kid said with pure joy.  He filled another spoon and offered it to her with the same response.  “You are in there, aren’t ya?” he said with a grin.

            “That’s wonderful,” Riley added.  “Boy, am I glad to see that.  And I know you are.”

            “I won’t give up on her, Hank.  I can’t.  She wouldn’t give up on me.  She never has.  Once when I was real sick, she and Heyes took care of me through a long winter.  She said they were real worried I might not make it, but when I finally opened my eyes, she was there, lookin’ like an angel.  I seriously thought I might be dead at first.”  He laughed at the thought.

            Riley laughed along with him.  “If I was a bettin’ man, which I’m not, I’d bet she’s gonna come out of this thing.  And you’re gonna be the reason she does.”

            The Kid smiled.  “Thanks, Hank.  I appreciate the encouragement.  I’ll take it wherever I can get it.”

            “You’re welcome, Son.  Anything else I can do?”

            Jed let out a sigh, even as he continued to spoon the broth into Cashie’s mouth.  “Well, I’m thinking we need to get that damned dress off her.  I swear part of me wants to burn that thing, but I know if I did, when she gets better she’d hate me for it.  And I know I’m technically her husband, but honestly, I don’t feel comfortable doin’ in by myself.  If you could get Mrs. Obermier or Becky or some lady over here to help me, I’d appreciate it.”

            “I see where you’re comin’ from, and I’ll do my best,” the sheriff replied and then started toward the door.  “You’re doin’ real good, Son,” he added.  “Real good.”

            The Kid smiled.  “You’re doin’ real good, too, Cash.  I know you’re there.  I know you know I’m here.  Don’t ya?”  He took the towel that had been on her forehead and touched it to her mouth, wiping away any residue from the soup. 

            He continued feeding her until the broth was almost gone and she wouldn’t take any more.  Mrs. Obermier and Becky arrived just then.

            “Oh my!  What happen to her now?” the German woman asked.   She gasped in horror when she realized what the young woman was wearing.  “Why she wear dat?”

            Kid shook his head.  “We don’t know.  The clerk found her lying on the floor, out cold, with it on.  We think she also went through Heyes’ clothes.”  He motioned toward the box with its collection of clothing still scattered around it. 

            Becky reached down and began picking up the pieces and putting them back into the box.

            “Thanks,” the Kid told her.  “I ain’t had a chance to do that yet.”

            Mrs. Obermier came closer to look at her friend.  “She awake, ja?”

            Kid shrugged.  “Sort of.  She finally opened her eyes, but she just stares, won’t speak.  Thank God she did take the soup.”

            “And doc-tor?”

            “He don’t know what it is.  Said he’d never seen anything like this.  He’s supposed to be findin’ a specialist for her.”

            “My Lord, I pray for her, Mr. Curry,” the German woman said.

            “Me too,” Becky added.

            “I was hopin’ you too could help me out and get that dress off her one more time.”  He shook his head.  “It was in the drawer, just like you gave to me, wrapped up and all.  But evidently, she went through Heyes’ clothes and put the dress back on before whatever happened happened.”  He sighed.  “Maybe you should keep it this time.”

            “Ja, I vill, if you want.”

            Kid put the bowl and spoon on the table.  “I set her up,” he explained, “so it shouldn’t be that hard.  I think maybe put one of those night gowns on.”  He moved away from the bed and started looking through the drawers until he found the other clean gown and laid it out for the women to use.  “I just don’t feel comfortable…” he began.

            “Ja, I know you marry, but not marry,” Mrs. Obermier said.

            The Kid nodded.  “I’ll be out in the hallway if you need me.”

            He left and soon the two women had the wedding dress off and Cashie’s gown on her.  She looked more comfortable and her color seemed a bit better.  Mrs. Obermier had folded the gown up and picked up the headpiece as well. 

            “Thank you so much,” Kid said, giving both women a hug. 

            “I hope she gets better,” Becky said.

            “Me too.  You good man,” Mrs. Obermier said.

            They left, and the Kid sat down beside Cashie on the bed.  He put his arm around her and, with his free hand, took hers. 

            “Now, don’t that feel better?” he said to his wife, hoping she could hear him.  “You got yer gown on, you’ve had some soup, and you’ve got me to cuddle with.  That’s some good medicine, don’t ya think?”

            He laughed as if she could hear everything he was saying, and he hoped she could.  He wasn’t going to roll over and pretend she wasn’t there.  The doc said talk to her, and by God, he was going to talk to her, and encourage her, and do whatever it took to bring her back to him.

            Cashie’s eyes blinked as they had been all along, but there was still no other response.  Kid kissed her hand and touched the ring on her finger. 

            “You know somethin’, that ring is partly from me too.  I finished payin’ for it, so that means it’s from me and Heyes.  What do ya think about that?  Pretty nice, huh?”

            He hadn’t planned to tell her this piece of news until later, but not knowing if she could hear him or understand what he was saying, he figured it shouldn’t hurt. 

            “I think that makes it very special.  What do you think?”  He paused as if she had answered him.  “Yeah, you think so too?  Good, ‘cause I’d buy you another one if you wanted, but I think this is better, more meanin’ful, you know.”

            He prattled on and on about anything and everything he could think of to tell her, except the few things he thought might make things worse, like the photograph.  He thought maybe tomorrow he’d have Hank take Heyes’ things and store them at his house along with the photograph.  He also thought he should kick himself for not doing that to start with.  

            After an hour or so of the one-sided conversation, Kid looked over at Cashie and saw that her eyes were closed again.  He took this as a sign of sleep, not being “out” as he’d found her earlier on the floor.”

            “Oh, so you’re sleepy, huh?  “Well, you know what?  I am too, so let’s get some shut-eye.”

            He gently eased her down so her head lay on the pillow.  Then he got himself undressed, blew the lamp out and got under the covers.  He sidled over to cuddle with his wife and put his arm around her.  Then he kissed her cheek and settled in for the night and whatever it might bring.

“Night, Cash,” he whispered and closed his eyes.

***

            Sometime during the night, Kid felt movement and a rush of cold air.  It woke him up, and he soon realized Cashie was not lying beside him any longer.  He immediately started to sit up and call her name, but he was pleasantly surprised to hear a familiar sound:  water hitting water. 

            He grinned and lay back, realizing what was going on.  _Well, what do ya know?”_  He lay still, waiting to see what would happen next.  To his great joy, his wife came back to bed and pulled the covers back over her.

            “Sweet Jesus, thank you,” he mouthed, still smiling.

            Kid rolled over to try to see if he could tell if her eyes were open or not.  She hadn’t said a word, but at least she was in control of her bodily fluids and could walk on her own.  That, in itself, took a load off his mind.

            His foot touched hers.  It felt like ice, so he wrapped both feet around hers to warm them.  She moved her feet against his.  _So, you want to play to play footsie_ , he thought.  He moved his feet, the friction creating more warmth.  Finally, she settled down and became still.  It was another good sign to the Kid.  He relaxed and went back to sleep with a newfound hope in his heart.

            The next morning, Kid opened his eyes to find that Cashie’s were already open.

            “Well, hey there, beautiful,” he said, smiling a big smile.  “I know what you did during the night.  Ain’t you something?”

            She remained quiet, her eyes fixed on the ceiling.

            Her husband went on.  “And to think last night, Doc Martin was sayin’ you might be an invalid, might never come out of this, and look at all you’ve accomplished since then.  You showed him all right.”

            He leaned over and kissed her cheek.  “I knew you’d fight this thing, whatever it is.  We’ll fight it together.  If you don’t want to talk, that’s fine.  I’ll do enough talkin’ for both of us.  In fact, I’m gonna talk to you so much that you’re gonna get sick of hearin’ me and you’re gonna tell me to ‘Shut up’ one of these days.  That’s what I’m gonna do.  You hear me?”

            If she did, she made no sign of it.  He touched her hair, her face, ran his fingers near her eyes.  She blinked, and he smiled.  She was in there, somewhere.  He just had to keep talking to her, keep taking care of her, keep loving her, and one day he felt sure she’d be her old self again.

            He got up and took care of his own business, then started getting dressed.  He needed to get them some food first thing, and make sure she got some nourishment in her.  That part he agreed with the doc about. 

            He was pulling his shirt on when he heard a knock on the door.  He figured he knew who it was before he even opened the door.  He was right.  Hank Riley was the first caller of the day.

            “Come on in, Hank.  I was just about to go get us some breakfast.  Maybe you could sit with her while I’m gone.”

            “Is she better?” the sheriff asked, a hopeful look on his face.

            The Kid shrugged, but there was a slight smile on his face.  “Well, if you consider she ate all that broth last night, and then during the night she got up, _by herself_ , and did what she needed to do, got back in bed, by herself, and pulled the covers up, well, then I’d say she’s better.”

            Riley’s face broke out in a great big grin, as well as his deputy’s.  “Well, I’ll be,” he said and shook the Kid’s hand.  “That is wonderful news!”

            “Ain’t it, though.  Cain’t wait to tell Doc Martin she ain’t no invalid.”  He looked over at Cashie.  “Whatever’s going on in her mind, she can do what she needs to do, I’m sure of it.  And I’m not surprised.”

            “Good news to me, too.  I barely slept a wink last night worryin’ about her.  And you too.”

            “Well, I talked her ear off last night until I noticed her eyes were closed, then I laid her down and felt good about things.  I just told her I’m gonna keep talkin’ to her ‘til she tells me to ‘shut up.’  What ya think about that?”

            Riley laughed out loud.  “I think if anybody can bring her around, it’s you.  That’s what I think.”

            “I’m not about to count my chickens before they hatch, but I gotta admit, I feel a whole lot better this mornin’.”

            “I’m sure you do.  Well, go on and get her and yerself some breakfast.  I’ll be glad to sit with her.  I got plenty o’ things I can tell her, too.”

            “Thanks, Hank.  Don’t know what I’d do without ya.” 

            “Don’t mention it.”

            The Kid grabbed his coat and went down the stairs, his heart feeling much lighter than the day before when he’d ran up them so fast.

            The sheriff sat down beside Cashie and took her hand in his.  He took note of how her eyes were still open but not focused on anything.

            “That fella of yers is gone to get ya some breakfast, Missy.  He’s feelin’ a little better this mornin’, and so am I.  I don’t know if you know what I’m sayin’ or not, but I want ya to know that this old man is pullin’ for ya’ and I’ll do anything I can to help you and Jed.  We both want you to pull out of this thing that’s got you locked up inside.  The doc may not know how to treat ya, but me and that man of yours are gonna love ya through this.  We sure are.”

            There was no response, but then, he didn’t really expect one this soon.  “I wanna see that sassy lady who told me off and put me in my place a while back.  Accordin’ to Jed, that’s who you really are inside, strong and sassy, don’t take nothin’ off nobody.  And I wanna see you happy, girl.  Lord knows, you’ve been through hell so much of yer life.  But one day, I hope and pray, the sun’s gonna shine for ya again.  And I mean that.”

            He squeezed her hand and then put both his around it to let her know how much he cared and wanted her to get better.

            Then Jed was back with the food.  “I got her some more broth, but I’m gonna try to get her to eat some eggs too.  What ya think, Hank?”

            “I think whatever works is good.  I was tellin’ her how much I wanted to see that sassy woman who told me off that day.”

            They laughed at the memory.  “Yeah, you and me both.”

            The sheriff got up and helped Jed raise her up to a sitting position.  Her husband put the pillow behind her head, and then he took the bowl of broth and spoon and fed her like the night before.  She took it in with no fuss.  Both men smiled, glad to see her taking nourishment like the doc had prescribed.

            When about half the broth was gone, Jed took some of his eggs and offered them to his wife.  She didn’t spit them out, but she didn’t swallow either.  Both men looked confused and concerned. 

            “You gotta chew ‘em a bit, Cash, then swallow ‘em,” Jed instructed.  After a few seconds, she did as he said and swallowed the eggs.  “There ya go!” Jed exclaimed.  “I knew you could do it.”  He offered her more, and she took it, repeated the process.  “Look, she’s eatin’ real food!” Jed exclaimed to his boss with pure joy.  He felt like a little boy at Christmas.

            “That’s great,” Riley said.  “Brings a tear to my eyes.”  He watched his deputy feeding his wife for a bit, then said, “By the way, don’t worry ‘bout comin’ to the office today.  You stay here and take care of her.  Ain’t much goin’ on, and I can handle it myself.”

            Jed looked up at the sheriff.  “You sure?”

            Riley nodded.  “I’m sure.  I’d feel a whole lot better knowin’ you’re here with her than with me.  Not that I got a problem with ya or anything, you know.”

            “Yeah, I know.”  Then the deputy had a thought.  “Hey, would you mind taking that box over there with ya?  Becky picked everything up last night, and I thought maybe you could keep it at your place for now.”

            The sheriff nodded.  “That’s a good idea, Son.”

            “Yeah, wish I’d a’thought of it sooner.  Mrs. Obermier took the dress with her and is gonna keep it at her store.”  He let out a sigh.  “Wish I’d thought of that one sooner, too.”

            “Oh, don’t be so hard on yerself.  It might ‘ave turned out like this anyway.  You can’t know.”

            Jed fed Cashie a few more spoonfuls of eggs until she wouldn’t take any more.  Even that, he felt, was a good sign.  He put the food down and picked up the box of Heyes’ clothes and gave them to his boss. 

            “I’m sure in the long run she’ll want these.  Me too, but for now, I think it’s best they’re stored somewhere else, along with the other things, ya know.”

            Riley nodded.  “Yeah, I know.  I agree.  Well, if ya need anything…”

            “I know where to find ya,” Jed laughed. 

            Riley went out with the box, and the Kid closed the door.  He went back to sit beside Cashie and picked the soup back up.  “Want some more of this broth to wash the eggs down with, Cash?”

            She took a few more spoonfuls then refused to open her mouth any more.  The Kid cleaned her up and then settled in to finish the eggs and eat the ham and biscuits he’d gotten at the restaurant.  They were a bit cold, but he didn’t care.  Cashie’s needs came first, and he was overjoyed at how much she’d eaten.  He couldn’t wait to give Doc Martin all the good news.

            The rest of the day went well.  The Kid talked about everything he could think of, except, of course, Heyes or anything else he thought might be upsetting.  She got up regularly to do what she needed to do.  He brushed her hair, sat with his arm around her, gave her occasional kisses on the hand, cheek, forehead, and fed her dinner and supper.  She didn’t eat much, but at least she was taking something regularly. 

            Doc Martin stopped in briefly for an update and was also delighted to hear that she could walk and take care of her needs without any assistance.  He was glad to hear she was eating some, but it still worried him that she wouldn’t speak or actually acknowledge anyone.  He told the Kid he’d sent telegrams to several doctors and was waiting to hear back from them.  For now, that’s all he could do.

            The evening went relatively the same as the night before.  Riley stopped in a couple more times.  Cashie fell asleep while the Kid was telling her about the horses that were still at the livery stable and how much he hoped they could go riding together when the weather turned warm.  He pulled her close and drifted off to sleep, thinking the day had gone well and anticipating that the next day or the day after that she might come around.

            But she didn’t.  Doc Martin heard from a specialist in Denver who was willing to come take a look at Cashie.  It was a little over a week before he arrived in Martinsburg.  He and Doc Martin came in together to see her.  Jed had also asked Riley to be there.

            Doc Martin introduced Dr. Samuel Strasberg to Jed and the sheriff.  He said he specialized in disorders of the brain and mental problems. 

            Dr. Strasberg checked Cashie over, doing some of the same tests Doc Martin had previously done.  He checked to be sure her pupils were dilating with light, listened to her heart, checked her pulse, noted she was very thin but otherwise seemed healthy.  Obviously, her inability to speak or acknowledge what was going on around her was the main cause of concern.

            The Kid remembered the time Cashie had berated Doc Martin for such a generalized diagnosis, and wondered if she’d feel the same way about this doctor. 

            “So what’s wrong with her, Doctor?”

            “Your wife is suffering from catatonia,” Strasberg said.

            “Cata-what?” the Kid asked.

            “Catatonia.  It’s a state of isolation from the world in a patient’s mind.  They can function to a level, but they can’t deal with life, so they shut themselves off from it.  This usually occurs after some traumatic event or injury.  I understand your wife did suffer from a serious trauma before her symptoms began.  Is that right?”

            “Well, yes, and I assume Doc Martin told you all about that.”

            “Yes.  Poor woman.  So unfortunate.  I can certainly understand what brought her to this state.”

            The Kid was confused.  “Yeah, but at first she seemed all right.  She was hurt, upset at times.  She went to the funeral and fainted, but she could still talk and some days even seemed like her old self.  Why wasn’t she like this right after what happened?  Why did it take so long for her to get this way?”

            “A very good question.  Perhaps your wife was grieving to some degree but had not fully internalized the trauma.  Or perhaps she suffered some other trauma that added to her pain and thus caused her to shut down and remove herself from reality.  This is only a guess, however.”

            The Kid thought about what the doctor had said.  He shared a glance with Riley, who nodded, thinking the same thing.

            “You said another trauma, Doctor.  The day she got like this was the day the man who was responsible for her husband’s murder was hung.  She’d been quiet that morning, and then, evidently, she went through her first husband’s clothing and put on the dress she’d worn to their wedding.  It was after that the clerk heard a scream and then found her passed out on the floor.  When she finally opened her eyes, she was like this.”

            “I see,” Dr. Strasberg said.  “Well, that could very well be the trigger that brought this on.  She might have been reliving that day, both the good and the bad, and then had to confront the reality of what happened more so than she had previously done.  Probably, her mind couldn’t deal with it, and so she has refused to accept that reality and, instead, has created one of her own in her mind.  Again, there’s no way to know exactly.  This is all very new medical theory.  I’m afraid that’s all I can tell you.”

            The Kid let out a sigh and thought over what the doctor had said.  He had one more question.

            “So how do we treat this?  What can be done to bring her out of this state, this cata…catatonia?”

            “There is no prescribed treatment, I’m afraid, Mr. Curry.  The palliative care you are giving her is probably the best thing for her, and perhaps with time she will come to her own reckoning with reality.  But that is not something I can promise.  No one can.  Of course, if you feel you cannot care for her long-term, there is always the option of putting her in an institution.”

            “Institution?  What kind of institution?” the Kid said angrily.

            “Like an insane asylum or place for those who are invalids and require around the clock care.”

            “She ain’t insane!” the Kid yelled.  “And she’s not an invalid either.  She can walk and take care of her personal needs.  She eats when I give her food, and I know, _I know_ , she hears what I say to her.  I talk to her all the time.  No, I’ll never agree to an _institution_!”  He said the word like it was something filthy.

            “I didn’t mean to upset you, Mr. Curry.  I was only trying to tell you your options.  I must warn you this condition may be long-term.  She might improve in weeks, months, or it could take years, if ever.  It could become more than you’re able to do on your own.  Not every man would be able to deal with this illness.”

            “Well, I ain’t every man!” the Kid said, pointing his finger angrily at the doctor.  “I’ll take care of her until the day I die if I have to, and you can take your _insti-too-shun_ and cram it…”

            “Now, now, Son, calm down,” Sheriff Riley stopped his deputy from getting out of hand.  “No one’s gonna do anything you don’t want.  They’ll have to go through me first.”  He nodded his head with conviction.

            “Again, I’m sorry to upset you, Mr. Curry.  I assure you I didn’t mean to.  And I was only giving you some options.  You are perfectly free to make your own choices.  In fact, I applaud you for the care you’re giving your wife.  I do.”

            The Kid backed off and let out a sigh.  “Well, in that case, thank you, Doctor.  But I’m not interested in any other options as long as you agree what we’re doin’ right here is good for her.”

            “Oh, I do agree,” Strasberg said.  ‘Dr. Martin and I are in perfect agreement about that.  And I do wish you all the success in the world.  I hope Mrs. Curry will be one of the lucky patients who can overcome this problem.”

            “Thank you,” the Kid said, nodding his head.  “And thank you for comin’ all this way to look at her.  I do appreciate it.”

            “Yes, well, I do have a train to catch to return to my practice in Denver.  I wish you well.”

            He and Doc Martin left the room, but Riley stayed.  They had agreed beforehand that the specialist’s bill would be split between them, so Jed didn’t have to worry about paying the doctor. 

            “At least you have a better idea of what’s goin’ on with her now,” Riley tried to encourage his deputy.

            “Yeah, at least there’s that.  I guess I was hopin…”

            “Me too.  But we’ll keep doin’ what we’ve been at, and in time I feel sure she’ll work it out and come back to us.”

            “I sure hope so, Hank.  But I mean what I said.  No institution.  Not now.  Not ever.”

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Catatonia is a mysterious neurological disease which generally consumes the patient in every aspect. It was central in the movie "Awakenings" where Robert DeNiro played a patient who had been in a coma-like state for many years and then suddenly came out of it but eventually relapsed. It can also be a psychological response to trauma, which is the case I'm using it as in our story of Cashie's grief. The dialogue actually explains this, I feel. I chose to make it a lesser degree to facilitate the plot and not thrust any more on poor Jed Curry than he has already had to deal with by not making his "wife" a complete invalid. Still he is in for a very long journey as he struggles to care for her and has to reach out to others for help.


	17. Echoes from the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jed receives a telegram from someone he hadn't thought of in years and has to make a decision regarding Cashie. Will it help to bring her out of her state of catatonia or not?

Several weeks went by with little change in Cashie’s condition.  She and Jed settled into a semi-routine wherein he would feed her as much as she would let him, he’d sit and cuddle with her, talking about anything and everything he could think of until she fell asleep.  Then he’d put her under the covers, get ready for bed and join her, soon falling asleep himself. 

During the day he would have the maid, Mrs. Obermier, Becky or some other woman check on her while he was at work.  He didn’t feel easy leaving her, but he knew he had to work to keep a roof over their heads and the bills paid.

Sheriff Riley came over regularly to visit her and sometimes give him a break to get their food or a quick drink at the saloon.  It wasn’t what Jed wanted, but for now, it was their life.

One day a young boy came running to the deputy as he was walking across the street, making his rounds. 

“Telegram for you, Mr. Curry,” the boy said and handed him a folded piece of paper. 

“Thanks,” he said and gave the boy a nickel.

Kid unfolded the paper and read:

_Jed Curry, Martinsburg, Nebraska_

_Heard about Heyes stop Very sorry stop Concerned for you and Maggie stop Would like to visit with your consent stop Please advise stop_

_Jason Stuart, Baltimore, Maryland_

The Kid put the paper in his shirt pocket and headed over to the telegraph office.  He sent his reply:

_Jason Stuart, Baltimore, Maryland_

_Maggie not good stop Would be glad for your visit stop Advise arrival day/time stop_

_Jed Curry, Martinsburg, Nebraska_

Next the deputy walked over the Sheriff’s Office and found his friend and boss, Hank Riley, sitting behind his desk.

“Can I talk to ya a minute, Hank?”

“Sure you can.  Have a seat.”

Jed sat down in front of the desk, with a worried look on his face.

“What’s on yer mind?” the sheriff asked.

“Well, I just did something, and I want you to tell me if you think I’ve lost my mind or not.”

Riley laughed.  “What in the world?”

Jed let out a sigh.  “I just got a telegram from a man in Baltimore who wants to come and see Cashie.”

“Another doctor?” the sheriff asked.

“No, you might say an old friend.”

The sheriff looked confused.  “Why would you think you were out of your mind to let an old friend come see Missy.  Seems to me the more friends who come to see her the better.”

Jed looked away for a bit before saying, “Well, he’s not just an old friend, more like an old beau of Cashie’s.”

Riley’s eyebrows went up in surprise.  “Is that right?” he said.  “I never knew there was another man.”

Jed proceeded to tell him how Cashie and Jason Stuart had met on the stagecoach headed to Reno.  He explained that she was at a very low point at the time and the amnesty deal had already fallen through once.

“We were broke, so me and Heyes signed onto a cattle drive down to Arizona to make some money to get us through for a while.  We decided, and Cashie agreed, that she would go to Reno and wait for us there.  We gave her every dollar we had to help keep her safe and comfortable until we got back.

“Well, after about two months, we got back and saw her on the street, but she didn’t seem to recognize us.  Now to be honest, we looked like two old mountain men with long beards and dirty clothes.  Anyway, next thing we know this fella comes over and tells us to quit bothering the lady, calls her ‘sweetheart’ and takes her hand and they walk away together.  Of course, this didn’t set too well with Heyes.

“So that night he confronted her about it in her hotel room.  I was mostly there for moral support.  She told us how she’d met the man, Jason Stuart, on the stagecoach and how nice he’d been to her, and then they started eatin’ meals together and he got real sweet on her and her on him a bit.”

The sheriff looked very surprised.  “Really now?”

“Yeah, but I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.  Cashie was feelin’ real low, like I said, and this man helped her feel good about herself again.  I don’t want ya thinkin’ bad about her or anything.  This was pure coincidence.”

“All right.  Go on.”

“So, then she had to tell Jason about Heyes, and then we all met together, actually had a meal together.  But sparks got to flyin’ every which a’way and words said until Cashie got tired of it, told both men off and walked out and left us sittin’ there.  Then I took her out ridin’ and she shot some cans.  Finally, she talked to me and told me how she felt and asked me how to fix it.  I told her it was just like the time she had to decide between me and Heyes, ‘cept this time it was Heyes and the Stuart fella.”

“I see,” the sheriff said.

“Well, the next day Jason asked her to marry him, had an engagement ring and everything.  But he also told her he knew who she really was, and who we were.  Cashie came back and told us about the proposal and that he knew who we were.  Then she and Heyes needed to talk things through, so I decided to go down to the saloon and wound up having a drink with Jason and we talked some.  I decided he was a decent fella, and I think he felt the same about me.”

The deputy was quiet for a few moments, letting all this sink in to his friend.

“Well, anyhow, I reckon you can figure how all this turned out.”

“She chose Heyes,” the sheriff said.

“Yep.  Now I could o’ told the man that, but I didn’t want to bust his dreams.  Besides we still didn’t know what he planned to do about turning us in or not.  He’d told Cashie he wouldn’t, and he was true to his word. 

“To make a long story short, we all parted friends, and none of us had heard a word from him since then until I got this telegram from him today.  He said he’d heard about Heyes and was concerned for me and ‘Maggie,’ as he calls her.  That was her alias back then.  So, he wanted to know if he could come to see her.  Well, what could I say?  I figured it can’t do no harm, but if there’s the slightest chance seein’ him might bring her out of her shell, well, you know I’ll do anything to help her.  So now tell me, am I crazy or not?”

“I think you’re a man who loves his wife and would try anything to make her better.”  He leaned forward to make a point.  “And no, I don’t think you’re crazy.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear it ‘cause I was feeling a bit worried about whether I’d done the right thing.  Thanks for your counsel, Hank.  I feel a lot better now.”

“You’re quite welcome, and I hope and pray this man can reach her,” the sheriff said. 

Both men nodded.

A week later Jed Curry waited at the train station.  He was both glad and fearful about Jason’s visit.  It would be good to have someone else to talk Cashie’s situation over with, but he wasn’t sure the man who had formerly proposed marriage to her was the right person. It would be awkward.  Still, he was willing to try anything, even a visit from her former suitor.

The train was on time, and soon Jed saw a familiar face.  He waved to Jason, and the smartly dressed man made a bee line for the deputy.  Jed held out his hand.  “Good to see you again, Jason.”

The easterner shook his hand eagerly.  “Same here, Thaddeus,” calling him by the alias under which he had first met him. 

Kid shook his head.  “No need for that name anymore.  Jed is fine.  One good bit of news is that the amnesty finally came through a couple of months ago.  Too late for Heyes, of course, but at least no more looking over our shoulders or worrying about jail.” 

He flashed his badge.  “And I’m a deputy now.”

Jason nodded.  “Well, I’m happy for that, at least.  And congratulations on the job.” 

He didn’t waste much time getting to the point of his visit.  “Now, you say, Maggie is not doing well.  What exactly is wrong with her, Jed?”

The deputy let out a deep sigh.  He explained as they walked slowly away from the depot.  “She took Heyes’ death real hard, Jason.  I mean, _real_ hard.”

“I figured as much,” Jason replied.  “Where is she?”

“At the hotel.  She stays there all of the time.  Hasn’t once left since the day Heyes was buried.”  He stopped walking and turned toward the visitor.  “Look, Jason, there’s something I need to tell you before we go any further.”  He paused, unsure what to say and finally deciding to be forthright.  “Me and Cashie are married.”

Jason Stuart’s face fell like a rock.  His eyes narrowed and his cheeks became red.  He grabbed the Kid by his shirt collar and pushed him up against the back of the depot, fire in his eyes.  “You selfish son-of-a-bitch!” he yelled.  “You couldn’t wait to get your hands on her, to take advantage of her at such a vulnerable time, could you?”

Jed didn’t bat any eye.  He looked directly into Stuart’s eyes and said in as calm a voice as he could muster, “Two things, Jason.  Number one, you best take your hands off me and make apologies to my dear departed mother.  And Number two, you need to let me explain the situation before you go jumpin’ to conclusions you know nothin’ about.”

Jason let go of the Kid’s collar and backed off.  He tried to compose himself by looking away, then he said, “I’m sorry, Jed.  I just…well, I was expecting…I thought…”

“Oh, I know what you thought.  You thought now that Heyes is in the ground you’d just come back out here and pick up with ‘Maggie’ where you left off.  Well, let me tell you that ain’t gonna happen.  And it’s got nothin’ to do with me bein’ married to her.  Nothin’ at all.”

Jason didn’t know what to say to the deputy’s insinuation.  He felt like he’d just been sucker punched.  He backed off further, holding up his hands to ward off any real punches he might have triggered in the former outlaw. 

“All right,” he said resolutely.  “Again, I’m sorry.  Please, just tell me what the hell is going on.  What’s wrong with Maggie?”

The Kid walked over to the nearest bench and motioned for Stuart to sit down.  “She was devastated by Heyes’ death, especially the way it happened, them just bein’ married and all.”

“Yeah, I heard about that too,” the easterner nodded, then had a thought.  “You know before I left Reno, I had a talk with Heyes.  I was so concerned for Maggie’s safety, and you know what he said to me?  He said he’d take a bullet for her.”

“Yeah, well, he did,” Jed nodded.  “Pushed her out of harm’s way.  We both would have.”  He looked down at the ground then continued.  “She’s not the woman you remember, Jason.  In fact, you probably wouldn’t even recognize her.  When Heyes died, a huge part of her died too.  She won’t talk.  Barely eats enough to keep her alive.  Mostly she just sits in that room, starin’ at nothin’.  I don’t know what to do for her.  But I knew I had to take care of her.  That’s why we got married, because of the circumstances.  I don’t mind admittin’ it’s a marriage in name only.  It’s so I can be with her and take care of her without anybody sayin’ anything against her.  I’m sure you know what I mean.”

Jason nodded, beginning to get the picture now.  “Yeah, I do.  I…I’m sorry again.  I should have known...”

“Damn right, you should have.  But anyway, she’s just a shell of the woman she once was.  It’s like she don’t want to live, like she wants to be with Heyes and she’s doin’ her damnedest to join him.”

Jason looked questioningly at the deputy.  “Well, has she seen any doctors?  What do they say about her condition?”

Jed nodded.  “Of course, she has, or rather they’ve seen her.  Doc Martin here in town checks on her regularly, but he don’t know what to do for her.  He says to give her time, take care of her and hopefully she’ll come out of it eventually.”

“What about a specialist?  Has she seen anyone else?  I’d be glad to bring in the best doctors in the country…”

Kid waved him off.  “I already brought in a specialist.  He said when Heyes died not only did it break her heart but her mind, too.  Said she has somethin’ called catatonia.  He didn’t have any better advice about treatin’ her.  There’s no known medicine for this kind of sickness, Jason.  He advised me, if she didn’t get better, to consider puttin’ her in an institution…”

“Dear God, no!” Jason cried.  “You can’t do that!”

Kid shook his head to assure the other man.  “No, I won’t do that to her.  No matter how long it takes, I wouldn’t, ever.”

There were tears welled up in Jason’s eyes.  He’d had no idea the beautiful woman he’d fallen in love with over two years ago could possibly be in such a state.   He was shocked to his core.

“Jed, I…I don’t know what to say.  I knew she’d be devastated by Heyes’ death, but I never dreamed…”

“Me neither.  Breaks my heart, first losin’ him and now…now it’s like I’m losin’ her a little more every day.”  He paused, looked away and then straight at Stuart.  “That’s why when I got your telegram, I thought…well, I thought maybe seein’ you again, that maybe you could get through to her, spark some memory or anything that might help her to come out of this.  I’m not selfish, Jason.  Not one bit.  If you can reach her where I ain’t been able to, then…I’d be happy for you to try.”  He broke down, his fears and frustrations overtaking him. 

Jason nodded and silently put his hand on Jed’s shoulder to bolster him.  “I understand.  I do, and I’m so very sorry.”

The deputy pulled himself together and wiped his eyes.  The kinship the two men had begun years ago and the love they both had for one woman had come full circle.  They were in complete agreement. 

“Whatever I can do, whatever you need, Jed, for Maggie’s sake.”

Yeah,” Jed nodded and laid his hand on Jason’s back.  It was good to have a partner of sorts again, even if it was only for this one moment in time, this one endeavor, for Cashie.

“You think I can see her now?” Jason asked. 

“Of course,” the Kid laughed lightly, trying to bring some levity to the situation.  “You didn’t come all this way to see me, now did you?”

Jason laughed too before replying, “Not really, but I _am_ glad to see you, too.”

The two men got up together and started walking toward the hotel, neither knowing what they might expect to find once they got there, but both praying for a miracle.

***

Jed stopped in front of the door to the hotel room he shared with Cashie.  Jason Stuart stood behind him, apprehensively.  The deputy knocked lightly before opening the door.  “Cash,” he called out.  “I brought someone to see you.  You’ll never guess who.”

He grimaced as his eyes fell on his wife, sitting in the same chair he’d left her in that morning, staring at the same wall.  He shook his head then moved aside so Jason could enter the room. 

Neither man said a word to begin with.  Jason saw a thin woman in a dirty white gown, her hair tangled and unkept.  She had a shawl tied loosely around her shoulders and only socks on her feet.  Just as Jed had told him, he would never have recognized her if he hadn’t been told who the woman was. 

He stared briefly then shifted his eyes to Jed Curry, shaking his head unbelievingly.  The deputy had tears in his eyes, and he turned away before he lost control of them. 

Jason took a few steps toward the woman.  As he got closer, he could see the resemblance to “his Maggie,” yet it wasn’t his Maggie.  Not anymore.  It was just as Jed had told him.  She looked half alive.

He cautiously moved closer to her, letting his hand touch her hair, feeling the tangles where once she had beautiful dark curls brushed to perfection.  Quietly, he knelt in front of her and took her hand in his.  It felt cold and rough.  He thought of the beautiful ring he had wanted to put on her lovely finger that day by the pond.  _Could_ this possibly be the same woman?

And yet he knew it was.  Her eyes, though blank, were the same shade of blue he remembered, and the curve of her face was the same, though much thinner now.  There were also several gray hairs mixed among the soft brown ones, though the dishevelment was so bad that it didn’t really matter.  She looked old, and sad, and so far away.

“Maggie?” he whispered. 

There was no response, so he said her name a little louder.  “Maggie, it’s Jason.  Jason Stuart.”  He squeezed her hand.  “Do you remember me?”

Again, no response.  No sense of hearing or seeing him.  No sense of caring what was going on around her.

Jason’s eyes filled with tears.  “Oh, my sweet darling Maggie…I’m so sorry, so sorry what happened to you.  I wish with all my heart that you could hear me and look at me.  Just let me know you’re there.”

But she didn’t look at him.  She didn’t move at all.  She gave no sign that she even knew he was there. 

In the background, Jed watched, hoping that this man who cared as much for her as he did could reach her.  He slowly backed out of the room and pulled the door almost to, giving them a bit of privacy.  He leaned against the wall, bit his lip and held his breath as he waited.

Jason’s tears ran down his face, but he didn’t care.  He didn’t know Jed Curry had left the room, didn’t care about that either.  All he cared about was this woman he had loved so deeply and lost, perhaps forever now.  He rested his head on her knee, praying for a miracle.

But none came.  The silence became unbearable, and finally, when he felt there was no hope that he might reach her, he kissed her hand then rose to his feet.  He brushed her messy hair away from her forehead and then kissed it too.  “I love you, Maggie,” he whispered before slowly turning away.

When he reached the door, Jason discovered that Jed had left him alone with her.  He appreciated that and realized the man had meant every word he’d said about hoping he could reach her.  As he went out into the hall, he found the deputy waiting and shook his head at him.  Jed lowered his eyes and let out a sigh.  His last hope had failed.

The Kid pulled the door to, and the two men walked slowly down the stairs.  When they got to the lobby, the deputy asked the clerk to send up the maid to help change his wife’s gown and see to her physical needs.  Jason listened and wondered how the man he had previously accused of taking advantage of Maggie managed to keep his sanity under the circumstances. 

Jed thanked the clerk and gave him some bills for the maid’s service.  Then he walked out the door onto the boardwalk.  Jason followed, having nothing more to say. 

Jed leaned against a post, looking tired and hopeless.  After what seemed an interminable silence, he said, “Well, thanks for tryin’, Jason.  I’m sorry she didn’t know you.  She doesn’t seem to know anyone anymore.”

The words were hard to come by.  “I…I don’t know how you do it,” Jason stuttered.  “I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t…”

“I know,” Jed agreed.  “She’s dyin’, Jason, just as surely as if she’d been shot too.  It’s just takin’ her longer than it did Heyes.  I try to encourage her, try to let her know I care.  I almost have to force food down her sometimes.  I pay that maid to check on her, put clean clothes on her, and whatever else she needs that I can’t do for her, but nothin’ changes.”  He looked over at Jason.  “You were my last hope.”

Jason put his head in his hands and then ran his fingers through his hair.  Any hopes he had of rekindling a romance when he got off that train were now gone.  “I wish I could have done more.  I wish I could have reached her,” he sobbed.

“Me too,” the deputy said.  “Me too.” 

They stood there a good while, neither knowing what to say.  Finally, the Kid said, “You goin’ back east now, I suppose.”

Jason nodded.  “What else can I do?  I made plans to stay over, but now, I don’t have a clue, Jed.  I’d stay for weeks or months if it would help, but she…she’s gone.  I never…”  He eventually quit trying to say anything, realizing there was nothing he could do or say to help Maggie or Jed.

“It’s just as well.  You tried, and I appreciate that more than you can know.  I made a promise to her, and to Heyes that day, that I’d look after her, and I’ll keep it.  You can count on that.”

Jason nodded and laid his hand on Kid’s shoulder.  “You’re a good man, Jed Curry,” he said.  “And if I can do anything…if you ever need anything, for her or you, just let me know, friend.  Anytime.”

The deputy felt another round of tears coming on, so he turned and gave Jason Stuart as big a hug as he could to show his appreciation and respect for his help.  Any animosity that had been between them when Jason first arrived in town was now long gone. 

Then they headed for the train station to find out when the next train back east would be coming into town.  Luckily for Jason, he’d only have to wait a couple of hours.  Jed waited with him.

When the train arrived, they shook hands, then the deputy said he needed to get back and check on Cashie.  Jason nodded and said, “Take care of her, brother.”  Jed Curry smiled and nodded.  Then his “partner,” if only briefly, got on the train, and the deputy was alone once more.  He turned and headed for the hotel, feeling as low as he ever had before.

When the Kid got back to the hotel, he was glad to see that the maid had changed Cashie’s gown.  He walked in and squatted down beside the rocking chair where she still sat, so he could look her in the face.  There was no change in her eyes since Jason had left.  Not that he really expected there to be.

He noticed the maid had not brushed her hair, so he stood and picked up the brush on the dresser and started brushing until it was untangled and laying nicely. 

“There,” he said to her.  “That looks much better.  He kissed her on the cheek and promised he’d be back soon with their supper.

Then he walked down the stairs, headed for the sheriff’s office.  He found his boss sitting behind his desk, waiting to hear the report.

“How did it go?  Any change?”

His deputy shook his head.  “No, not at all.  Jason was truly upset when he saw her.  I told him how she was, but I don’t think he really believed me until he saw for himself.  She didn’t even seem aware he was there.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Jed.  I know you were hopin’ he could make a difference.”

“Well, it was good of him to try.  He was a might upset when I told him we were married, but when I explained why, he understood.”

The sheriff nodded.  “Is he still here?”

“Naw, he left on the next train.  No point in him stayin’.  She really looked bad when he saw her too.  Her gown was dirty and her hair a mess.  I had the maid change her gown while I waited with Jason, and just now I checked on her and brushed her hair.”

Riley shook his head.  “Well, you know I’m biased, but I still think if anyone can reach her, it’s you.  You’re a good man, Jed Curry.”

“Jason said the same thing,” the deputy said with a slight smile. “Anything else you want me to do today?”

“No, I think I can handle it here.  You go on back and check on Missy.”

Jed laughed.  “Thanks, Hank.  I appreciate it.”

With those words, he left and headed over to the restaurant to pick up some supper for him and his wife.

“Any change in Miss Cashie?” Becky asked as he took their plates from the young girl.

The deputy shook his head.  “Thanks for helpin’ me out, Becky, and come by to see her anytime you’d like.”

“I will,” Becky said.  I’m prayin’ for her, Mr. Curry.”

“I do appreciate that,” Jed replied as he went out the door.

Jed found Cashie still sitting in the rocking chair, where it seemed she had spent all day.  He put the food down and went over to check on her.  He kissed her cheek, then picked her up and laid her on the bed, where he always fed her.  After propping her head with the pillows, he brought out her plate and a spoon to feed her with.

“Look what I have for you, Cash.  Beef stew.”  He held a spoonful to her lips and she took it in.  “Good girl,” he said, talking and praising her as he went along.

“You had company today, but I don’t think you even knew it.  All the way from Baltimore.  Do you remember, Cashie?”

She continued eating, with no awareness. 

“We both had a nice visit from Jason Stuart.  You remember him, don’t ya?  Well, he was real concerned and wanted to see ya.  I told him to come on.  He won’t too happy to hear about me and you being married, but we got all that straightened out, and I actually think we’re friends now.”

He wiped her mouth, and then gave her a few more spoonfuls.  “I sure would love to know what you’d think about all this?”

He finished feeding her and then dug into his own stew.  He kept thinking about the day and Jason’s visit and how hurt the man had been to find Cashie in this condition. 

After their supper, the Kid followed their usual routine, putting Cashie to bed, and then holding her and talking until she fell asleep.  He had to admit he was particularly tired too.  It had been a long day.  He got under the covers, gave his wife a goodnight kiss, and sleep soon overtook him.

***

A little over a week later, Jed Curry received another telegram from Jason Stuart.  This one read:

_Good to see you last week stop Sending money for you and Maggie stop Use however you see fit stop I trust you stop Check Martinsburg Bank stop_

Jed was completely surprised.  He knew Jason had said to let him know if he needed anything, but he hadn’t asked.  He put the telegram in his pocket and headed over to the Martinsburg Bank.

Stepping inside the bank brought all kinds of memories back to Jed “Kid” Curry, both good and bad.  Memories of him and Heyes, and Cashie too, opening safes, blowing up safes, all on the wrong side of the law he now had taken an oath to uphold.  There were also a few times when he and Heyes had worked honestly for a bank.  Either way, he felt a bit uneasy being inside the bank right now.

Deputy Curry stopped in front of a teller window and said, “I have a telegram here saying there was some money wired to me at this bank.”

He handed the telegram to the teller and waited. 

“Yes, Mr. Curry.  I need to take this to our bank manager.  I’ll be right back.”

The teller closed his window and stepped away.  Jed was wondering why he needed to see the bank manager.  He figured Jason had sent him some money to pick up right now or perhaps as he needed it.  He didn’t see why a bank manager needed to be involved.

It wasn’t very long before a short, round man with graying hair came out to greet him with a huge smile.  “Hello, Mr. Curry.  I’m Joseph Giles, Bank Manager.”  He offered his hand, and Jed shook it, still feeling uneasy.

“Would you please step into my office, and we’ll take care of this matter right away, sir.”

Jed followed the man into his office, where he told him to sit down in the chair in front of his desk.  Then he closed the door behind him. 

Jed was even more nervous now.  He wasn’t a customer of the bank, had only been in it a few times on the sheriff’s business.  He figured Mr. Giles not only knew _who_ he was but also who he _had_ _been_.   He didn’t know what to expect next.

“What exactly is this all about, Mr. Giles?” the deputy asked.  “I thought I was just supposed to pick up some money Mr. Jason Stuart had sent me.  Is there more to it than that?”

The bank manager’s smile was even bigger now.  “Well, actually there is.  I take it Mr. Stuart didn’t tell you the amount he planned to send you.”  It was more of a question than a statement.

“You’d take that very right, Mr. Giles.  All I know is what’s on that telegram you have there in your hand.”

“Oh yes, I see.”  He handed the telegram back to Jed.  “Well, Mr. Curry, I received some papers from Mr. Stuart by mail a few days ago instructing me to open an account in your name, and the money only arrived by wire today.  I have the papers right here.” 

He handed them to Jed, who looked them over.  Most parts of the papers were hard to follow, but one thing stood out clearly:  “the sum of Twenty-Five Thousand Dollars.”

Jed’s eyes grew big as saucers.  He dropped the papers on the desk and felt as if he were about to be arrested for theft or something.

“Do you mean…are you sayin’ that Jason is givin’ me $25,000?”

“That’s correct, Mr. Curry.  These papers authorize me to set up an account in your name for $25,000, to which you will have access to withdraw from at your discretion.  The instructions are very clear.”

Jed took in a deep breath and blew it out.  “I had no idea.”

“Oh dear,” Mr. Giles said.  “Maybe this letter will explain things.”  He handed Jed an envelope with the words written on it:  “Jedediah Curry, Confidential.”

Jed held the letter in his hands, looking at the handwriting, then he looked up at the bank manager.  “Am I supposed to open this now?” he asked.

“Well, that’s quite up to you, Mr. Curry.  You can open it now, or you can take it with you and open it in a more private setting.  Whatever you wish to do will be fine.”

Jed put the envelope in his vest pocket, deciding to open it later.

“Now, if you’ll just sign this page right…here.”  Giles put one sheet of paper in front of Jed and pointed to where he should sign it.

Jed looked at the paper, still uneasy about the amount Jason had sent and what he was supposed to do with it.

“Are you sure?”  He looked up at the bank manager with bewildered eyes.

“Quite sure, Mr. Curry.  “There’s no problem at all.  Just sign your name and then whenever you want to make a withdrawal, simply come in and we’ll be more than glad to help you.”

There was that huge smile again.  Jed looked down at the paper and signed his name.  He wondered what he was getting himself into.

Mr. Giles took back the paper, adding it with the others.  “I do appreciate your business, Mr. Curry.  Welcome to the Martinsburg Bank.”

He offered his hand again, and Jed shook it, still feeling anxious.  Then he walked out of Mr. Giles’ office, out of the bank, and stood outside, looking around the street, trying to figure out what to do next.

He thought of going over to the sheriff’s office, but he didn’t want to say anything to Hank until he’d read the letter and knew more.  And the most private place he could think of to do that was in his and Cashie’s hotel room.  He headed in that direction.

Once inside the hotel, Jed ran up the stairs and gently opened the door.  Cashie was sitting in her usual spot in the rocking chair.  He slipped in quietly, said hello and gave her a quick peck on the cheek.  Then he sat down in the other chair, opened the letter and started reading.

_Jed,_

_It was so good to see you last week.  I was extremely sorry to find Maggie in the condition she is in.  I realize it cannot be easy to take care of her day in and day out.  You are indeed a good man to take this on, and I quite admire you for your endeavors on her behalf._

_Not knowing when or if she might make a full recovery, I feel obligated to help you with the funding for her needs.  I am wiring some money to the Martinsburg Bank, which I hope will ease your burden and hers not only now but in the future.  Please feel free to use these funds at your discretion to take care of both her and your needs.  I only hope that someday you will both be blessed to find the happiness you so dearly deserve._

_Please keep me informed of her progress.  You have my trust and total respect._

_Most sincerely,_

_Jason Stuart_

Jed Curry read every word.  Twice.  He let the letter drop in his lap, amazed that this man whom he had only met twice would be so generous not only to Cashie but also to him.  It was a gift of love in more ways than one.

He looked over at Cashie, wondering if he should read the letter to her.  Since he didn’t know if she could understand, he decided not to, at least not right now.  Perhaps someday when she was better.

He folded the letter and put it back into the envelope, back into his pocket.  He walked over to his wife, took her hand and kissed it. 

“I have some really good news, Cash, and when you’re better, I’ll tell you all about it.  Right now, I need to go talk to Hank.  I’ll be back later on.  Love you.”  He kissed her cheek once more and left the room.

He headed to the sheriff’s office, where he knew he could usually find his boss and friend, Hank Riley.  Since Jed had become deputy, the sheriff had taken to doing the more mundane tasks of office work and let him take care of the rounds, soothing frayed nerves and keeping the peace.  He found the man right where he expected, behind his desk.

“Hey, Hank, I need to talk to ya about somethin’ important.  You got a minute?”

“For you, sure,” the sheriff said.  “Sit down.  Anything wrong?”

The deputy shook his head.  “No, not this time.”

Riley’s faced perked up.  “Is she better?” he asked.”

“No, not really.  It’s not about Cashie, well, not directly, anyway.”

“Well, spit it out, whatever it is.”

Jed took in a deep breath and blew it out.  Then he swallowed before he began.

“I just got another telegram from Jason Stuart, this time sayin’ he was wirin’ me some money to the Martinsburg Bank.”  He handed the telegram to the sheriff, who put his glasses on to read it.

The sheriff looked surprised too.  “Did you ask him for some money?”

“No,” the deputy said.  “I mean, he told me if I ever needed anything, but I never asked for a dime.  I ain’t even heard from him until today, and I tell ya, I just don’t know what to make of what he’s done.”

Riley took his glasses off and laid them on the desk.  He handed the telegram back to his deputy before asking, “What do ya mean, what he’s done?”

“Well, Hank, it’s not so much that he sent _some_ money as it is how _much_ money he sent.”

The sheriff was all ears now.  “Well, don’t just set there.  Tell me how much he sent?”

Jed leaned in toward the desk, his voice hushed as if he were afraid someone else might hear.  “Would you believe Twenty…five…thousand…dollars?”

Hank Riley’s eyes grew about as big as Jed figured his had in the bank manager’s office when he heard the same amount.  He fell back in the chair, and Jed was afraid for a moment the old man might be having a stroke or something.

“Whoa, Son!” the sheriff exclaimed.  “That’s a lot o’ money!”

“Tell me about it,” the deputy said, glad to know the old man was all right.  “I couldn’t believe it when I saw the amount on those papers.  I still can’t.”

His friend sat pondering for a few moments.  Then he said, “Do you know…have you even thought…”

“Know what, Hank?”

The sheriff had this amazed look on his face, and it took him a moment to turn his thoughts into coherent words.

“The amount.  See, I was just thinkin’ about that day the three of you walked into my jail, all tied up, ‘bout frozen, and that Wentworth so proud and happy.  He wanted that reward money, Son.  He wanted it bad.  And now…this man gives you an amount totaling what was payable on all y’all’s heads.”

Jed let out a long whistle.  “Geez, Hank, you got to that even before me.  I hadn’t even thought that through.  Do ya think he did it on purpose?”

The sheriff shrugged.  “How should I know?  I never even met the man.  Seems you’d have more idea than me.  Did he say anything besides what’s in that telegram?”

“Yeah.  He sent me a letter along with all the bank documents.”

“Well, what did he say, if’n ya don’t mind me askin?”

“Here,” he said, pulling the envelope out of his pocket once more.  “I’ll let ya read it for yerself.”

Riley put his glasses back on and took the letter.  He read it thoroughly, then he looked at his deputy straight in the eye.”

“Well, I reckon this Jason Stuart thinks right smart of both Missy and you.  He’s given you full discretion over how to use this money for her and you.  That’s some gift, Son.  It sure is.”

“I know, Hank.  I do.  And you know what the funny thing is?  When he was here, I felt this, I don’t know…maybe kinship would be a good word for it.  Like me and him had this bond or somethin’.  It reminded me of Heyes, if you want’a know the truth.  Does that sound crazy?”

Riley thought a few seconds, then shook his head.  “Not crazy at all.  It’s a gift of love.  You both love her, and he knows that you’re the best person to take care of her and maybe one day bring her out of this condition she’s in.  All three of ya—you, Heyes and him—all loved her.  There is some kind o’ bond there.  I’m sure of it.”

Jed let out another sigh.  “Well, I never expected anything like this.  Surely, I didn’t.  And I don’t rightly know what to do about it right now.”

“That’ll come later, Son.  Have you told her?”

“Cashie?  I thought about it, but not knowin’ if she can really understand or not, I figured I’d wait until she’s better.”

Hank nodded.  “You know best, I reckon.  Well now, you’re a right wealthy man, for these parts, anyhow.  So what ya gonna do to celebrate?”

Jed gave his boss a questioning look.  “Celebrate?  What am I supposed to celebrate?  I mean, yes, I have plenty of money now to help take care of Cashie, but Hank, I’d give every penny of it away just to have her back to her old self.”

The sheriff nodded.  “I know you would.  I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again.  You’re gonna be what brings her out of it in the end.”

Jed shook his head and laughed lightly.  “You give me too much credit, Hank.”

“No, I don’t.  You’ve been there for that woman ever since Heyes was shot down, and from what I’ve heard from all of you, you’ve been there for her even before.  Not many men would of done the things you’ve done for her.  And I know you want to go run right back to her now, but you know what?  You need a break yerself.”

“A break?  Doin’ what?”

“I don’t know.  Go fill yer belly or go to the saloon and get ya a couple of drinks, play a few games.  Heck, I might join ya in a while.”

“Are you serious, Hank?”

“Course I’m serious.  Now git yerself on outta here and go have some fun.  If any man deserved it, you sure do,"

 Jed laughed.  “All right, Hank.  But can we keep the money thing just between you and me, for now anyway.”

 “Sure ‘nuff.  My lips are sealed.”

  “Thanks, Hank,” his deputy said and walked out the door into the street.  He looked around a bit before setting off for the saloon.

***

Deputy Jedidiah Curry made his way through the semi-crowded saloon to the bar.  “Whiskey,” he told Jim the barkeeper.

“Sure ‘nuff,” Deputy,” Jim replied as he filled a shot glass full.  “How’s the missus doin’?

“’Bout the same, I’m afraid.  But thanks for asking, Jim.”

“She’s got a lot of people pullin’ for her, ya know,” the bartender said.

“I appreciate that.  I truly do,” the deputy said.

He drank the whiskey down, letting it slide across his gullet, both scratchy and sweet at the same time.  “One more, please,” he said, setting his glass down.  Jim gladly filled it once more.

Jed turned around towards the tables looking to see which one he might join, when this blonde-haired saloon girl sidled up next to him. 

“How ya doing, Deputy?  Aint’ seen you in here much lately,” she said seductively.

“Ain’t been in here much lately,” he replied.

It was true.  He hadn’t been in the saloon much at all since Heyes’ death.  He’d been too busy between work and looking after Cashie.  Oh, he’d stopped in a couple of times for a drink, having long ago finished off that bottle of whiskey Hank Riley had brought him at the hotel.  And he played a few hands of poker, and even settled some frayed nerves a time or two.  Only once had he needed to draw his gun, and he was glad of that.

The saloon girl pressed up next to him and ran her hand around his arm.  “I know you’re real good with that gun there.  I was here that day you drew it on that card sharp.”

“Uh-huh,” Jed answered without looking at the girl.

“I’ll bet that’s not the only good thing you’re good with,” she added.

Deputy Curry could see exactly where this conversation was headed.  He wasn’t too keen on looking at saloon girls anymore, but he turned to look at this one.  She had blonde hair all curled and twisted about, the usual feathers in it, and a dress that didn’t leave much to the imagination.

“What’s yer name, ma’am?” he asked.

“Gloria,” she said with a big smile.

Jed smiled back.  “Well, Gloria, that’s a pretty name.  It truly is.  I’ll bet you sure know how to make a man happy, don’t ya?”

The girl smiled even more.  “You lookin’ to be made happy, deputy?”

“Well, that would be mighty nice, yes indeed,” he answered, still smiling, “‘cept there’s just one problem.”

“And what’s that?” the girl asked, batting her eyelashes suggestively.

“I’m married.”

 “Don’t make no matter to me,” she answered, then whispered in his ear, “Besides, I hear you ain’t so _happily_ married.”

“Is that right?”  the deputy said, and then his face got real serious.  “Well, you hear wrong, Miss Gloria.  Besides, that’s _my_ business.”

The smile dropped off the girl’s face. 

Then Jed Curry leaned in and whispered in her ear, “There’s only one woman that can make me happy, and it _ain’t_ you.”

With that, Deputy Jed Curry strode toward the door and left the shutters flapping as he went out the saloon.

He stood in the street just for a moment before turning towards the hotel.

The saloon girl felt at first like she’d been sucker punched, but then her lips turned up into a sweet smile.

 

 


	18. The World Right Side Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jed Curry has just received a huge surprise from Cashie's former beau in the form of a large amount of money. But he's in for an ever bigger and better surprise.

Since it's Valentine's Day, I thought I'd share the next chapter with you.  It seems appropriate.

 

 

Kid made a bee line for the hotel.  He couldn’t seem to get there fast enough.

When he opened the door, he saw that Cashie was still sitting in the rocker where he’d left her when he came by and read Jason’s letter. 

He got her up, held her in his arms like he usually did when he would move her over to the bed for meals, except this time he didn’t have any food. 

All he wanted to do was hold her.  He had one arm under her arm, one under her knees and her head laying against his neck.  He kissed her sweetly, then rather than put her on the bed he simply held her, walked about a bit, twirled her around as if they were dancing and talked to her.

“That’s my girl.  You wanna dance?  We can dance just like this.”

He twirled her around a couple more times, thinking of them dancing in his mind.  He figured she didn’t know, but he did.  And he only wanted to feel her against his skin, in his arms, in his heart.

That saloon girl had made him realize just how deeply his love ran for his wife, and how much he actually _wanted_ her to be his wife, in every way.  Of course, there was the chance she never would be.  She might not come out of the trance she was in.  And even if she did, she might not want _him_ in that way. 

Right now, though, he was content to hold her and pretend that she was well and they were dancing.  Maybe if he believed it long enough and hard enough, one day it would come true.

Finally, with tears in his eyes, he held her closer, tighter, before he laid her on the bed, straightened her gown and tried to brush her hair with his fingers.  Her eyes were still open, but the blank stare was there.  He lay down beside her, simply looking at every feature of her face.

 _“There’s only one woman that can make me happy.”_   He remembered the words he’d said to the saloon girl.  That woman was right here beside him, yet she wasn’t here.  The contradiction was driving him insane.  He had to do something more, something outside the box, something perhaps he wasn’t supposed to do. 

            He wanted her back so badly, the way she used to be, happy, healthy, so vibrant.  He wanted to talk to her, laugh with her, cry with her.  He wanted…

            Kid leaned over and kissed her cheeks, her forehead, her chin…all the usual places he’d tried to show his love to her both before and since the catatonia.  Nothing had worked.  Perhaps it was time…

            Gently he let his lips touch hers, briefly.  He pulled back and gazed into those blue eyes of hers, so much like his own.  Then he kissed her lips firmly this time, letting them linger and caress what he had deemed off limits until now.  He pulled away briefly and checked again.  Still no change.

            “Come back to me, Cash,” he whispered before taking her mouth even more firmly this time and letting all his love, his passion for this woman, permeate this one final kiss.  He lifted his mouth and came back harder, again and again, pretending she was there and kissing him back in the same way. 

            Until something changed.  He wasn’t sure when, or how, but suddenly he was aware that she _was_ kissing him back.  Her lips were moving in rhythm with his and she was making…

            Kid pulled away, his eyes wide, his breath fast.  He looked into her eyes once more, then swallowed hard.

            “Cash?” he said disbelievingly.  “Cash, are you there?”

            She blinked, and her eyes moved, scanning his face.  “Kid?”  She seemed bewildered.

            Kid sat up more and let out a deep breath, a smile growing larger on his face with every second.

            “Cash, are you there?  Can you see me, hear me?”  He waved one hand in front of her face.

            She frowned and looked at him like she thought he was insane.  _Maybe he was._

            “Yes, I can see you, and I can hear you.  “What…what are you doing?  Then she realized what he’d _been_ doing, and her eyes got bigger too.  “Why…why were you kissing me like _that_?”

            He sat up and nearly jumped off the bed, he was so overjoyed.  He laughed.  He cried.  His joy could not be contained.

            “You’re back!  You’re really back!  You can see me.  You can hear me.  And you kissed me back!.”  He looked heavenward.  “Thank you,” he whispered.  Then he reached his arms under her and pulled her to him in a very grateful embrace.

            Poor Cashie had no idea what was going on.  The Kid was all smiling and happy like she’d never seen him before.  Well, not in a very long time, anyway.  And the way he was looking at her, touching her, he’d been kissing her…on the lips!  _What the…_

            Kid settled down enough to notice the look of bewilderment in his wife’s eyes and knew he needed to give her some time to catch up.  He was so wrapped up in his own joy and thankfulness that she was aware of him, aware of herself, that he hadn’t thought to consider how she must feel, coming out the state she’d been in for months.  He just looked at her, trying to contain his happiness until she made the next move.

            Cashie looked at him, then her eyes wandered around the room, realizing it was the same hotel room they’d been sharing for a while.  She picked her head up and looked at herself.  She realized she was wearing a night gown that didn’t look very clean, and what she could see of her body, she appeared much thinner than she remembered.  Her gaze moved back to Kid’s face, her eyes meeting his.

            “What…” she began but he stopped her. 

            “Shhh…it’s all right.  You’ve been away for a while, but now you’re back, and everything’s gonna be just fine.”

            Her eyes told him she didn’t understand.  “Why do you keep sayin’ that I’m back?  Where have I been?”

            He laughed lightly, trying to be calm and understanding so as not to frighten her.  “There’s so much I have to tell you,” he said.  “Here, let me help you.”

            He lifted her up to a sitting position, just as he normally did to feed her.  But this time, she used her hands to help him.  He put the pillow behind her head without even thinking, but she didn’t decline it.  Then he sat back and took her hand in his, squeezing it to make sure he wasn’t dreaming and to get a response from her.  She squeezed back.

            Cashie looked around again, now from a better vantage point, and could see how thin her arms were.  She felt her hair and knew it needed a good brushing.  Then she looked to Kid for some answers.  “What happened to me?” she said with a quiver in her voice.

            He shook his head, fighting tears.  “You’ve been sick, Cash.  Really sick.  And we didn’t know if we’d ever get you back or not.”

            She stared, not understanding.  “There’s that word again, ‘back.’  Why do you keep sayin’ that?”

            He tried to get his words together, figure out where to start.  “What do you remember?” he asked, hoping she could fill in some of the blanks both for herself and him.

            Cashie thought a minute, then shook her head.  “I…I don’t know.”

            “Well, what’s the _last_ thing you remember, then?”

            She tried harder, and he let her take her time.  He knew this was a very important moment and he couldn’t rush her.  He didn’t need a doctor to tell him that.

            She still looked bewildered. 

            “All right, then, let’s start at a point in time and see what you do remember.”

            She nodded.

            “Do you remember the day we said our little short marriage vows and I moved in here with you?  The day you and I worked together to put the sheriff, the doctor and Brubaker in their places?

            She nodded and smiled a bit.

            “Good, he said.  “Do you remember Wentworth’s trial?”

            She didn’t seem as sure about that one.  “Vaguely.  You told me he was found guilty, right?”

            The Kid smiled.  “Yes, I sure did.”  Then his face got serious.  “Do you remember the day of the hanging?”

            Cashie looked down, her eyes searching like her mind was searching for a file.  She shook her head.  “Does that mean, he’…”

            Kid nodded.  “Yes, he’s dead. I came by that day and told you he was, but you didn’t seem yourself that day.  You were quiet, didn’t have much to say.  I asked you why I didn’t feel better, and you said ‘Because it changes nothing.’  And you were right, Cash.  You were absolutely right.  Do you remember any of this?”

            Again, she shook her head.  So now he knew they had a starting point.

            Part of him was afraid to tell her what had transpired since that day, so afraid it might set off another spell of the catatonic behavior.  And he’d just gotten her back.  Still, he knew she had questions.

            “We ate a bit of lunch, neither of us too hungry, and I went back to the office and was helpin’ Riley.  Then the boy that brings the bath water came runnin’ and sayin’ there was somethin’ wrong with you.  I took off, the boy and Riley right behind me.  When I got up here, you were lyin’ in front of the dresser with the desk clerk and maid crouched over you.  They said they heard you scream.”

            She listened but showed no sign of remembrance.  Again, she shook her head.  He wasn’t sure if he should mention the wedding dress and Heyes’ clothes or not.  He decided against it for now.

            “I picked you up and put you on the bed, called for the doc, and he came real quick.  We didn’t know if you’d fainted, hit your head or what.  There was no sign of any blood or even a bump on your head, but we didn’t know.  Doc said to keep a watch on you.  Then I laid down beside you and closed my eyes a few minutes.  When I opened them, yours were open, too.”

            He stopped to give her a chance to think through what he’d just told her and see if she remembered anything else. 

            “What happened to me, Kid?”

            He shrugged.  “Cash we still don’t really know.  But after that you were in some state where you were here, but you weren’t here.”

            Cashie’s face twisted trying to understand.  “What does that mean?  How could I be here and not be here?”

            He let out a deep breath.  “You didn’t seem to see anyone or anything.  Your eyes were open, but you couldn’t talk or acknowledge anything.  Doc Martin said he’d never seen anything like it.  But then we found out you would eat some.  I fed you broth and then later eggs and soft things, and you swallowed them.  And you could walk around and do what you wanted and needed to do, but it was sort of like you were sleepwalkin’ or in a daze.  I had a specialist come from Denver to see you, and he said you had somethin’ called ‘catatonia.’”

            Cashie couldn’t believe what she was hearing.  She had no memory of any of this.  “What’s that?” she asked.

            Kid explained to her what the doctor had said and how he had no treatment either.

            “The only option he gave me was to put you in an institution, and I let him know right away that won’t gonna happen.  So, I’ve just been takin’ care of you here, with Hank’s help and Mrs. Obermier’s and Becky’s, and the doc would come by about once a week and check on you.”

            Cashie closed her eyes and breathed in deeply before blowing the breath out.  The Kid knew it was a lot to take in. 

            When she opened her eyes, she asked, “How long?”

            Kid was quiet, still not wanting to frighten her, but he knew she wouldn’t be satisfied until she knew everything.  He swallowed and looked away a moment before looking her directly in the eyes and saying, “About two months.”

            Her mouth fell open and she looked like she was going to cry.  He reached over and pulled her to him and held her close. 

            “It’s over now.  It’s gonna be all right.  You came back to us, and I’m not gonna let you go away again.  You cain’t.  Please, don’t.  God, I’ve missed you so much.” 

            They were both shedding tears, his tears of joy, hers tears of fear and being overwhelmed to hear all she’d been through, all she’d put _him_ through.

            Once the tears lessened, Kid pushed her back and wiped her cheeks.  Then she wiped his.  They gazed into each other’s eyes, feeling thankfulness for one another and having gotten through another terrible time together.

            “Are you all right?” he asked.  “Did I say too much?”

            She shook her head.  “I just can’t believe all this has happened, and I don’t know about any of it.  And I…I can’t believe all I’ve put you through and you’re still here.”

            He caressed her cheek and put on a brave smile just for her.  “Where else would I be?”

            She smiled back.  “What…what do we do now?”

            He took both of her hands in his.  “Well, first thing I feel I need to do is let Hank know you’ve woke up, I mean, _really_ woke up this time.  Cash, he’ll be overjoyed just like I was.  I honestly don’t know how I could have gotten through this without that man.”

            “I’m so glad he was here for you, since obviously I wasn’t.”  She looked embarrassed.

            “Now don’t you go feelin’ bad about this.  No, none of this was your fault.  That specialist said all this came from the trauma you suffered, and it was your way of dealin’ with everything that’s happened to you.  He said you couldn’t accept what had happened, and eventually you just turned away from reality and made your own reality in your mind.”

            She looked away and tried to hide her pain.  “So what he’s sayin’ is I was crazy, mad, out of my mind.”

            He pulled her back to him.  “No, not that.  I told him you were not insane.  And I told him I’d never give up on you.  And I didn’t.  I knew you were in there, and I knew you’d come back to me.  And now you have.” 

            She put her arms around him, realizing the sacrifices he must have made for her.  How awkward and how painful seeing her for so long in that condition must have been. 

            “You’re so good to me,” she whispered and kissed his neck. 

            He smiled at her show of affection.  “You’ve always been good to me, always took care of me when I was sick.  You remember?”

            She nodded, and he pushed her back.  “It’s no different here.  You needed me, and I was here.”  He smiled at here.  “Nowhere else I wanted to be.”

            She smiled broadly at him, and said, “You’re a good man, Jed Curry.”

            And he lost it, laughing and looking down and shaking his head.  “Not you too!  I have heard that so many times from so many people, and I don’t feel like I deserve it.  Enough, please.”

            She laughed at his antics, happy to hear him joking again. 

            Then he got serious and said he’d better go tell Hank and wondered if she might want to change out of that gown and put on a real dress.  She agreed, so he helped her stand and got out the dress she told him she wanted to wear.  It was the first new one she’d gotten from Mrs. Obermier after they came to Martinsburg.  It held special meaning for both of them.

            “Are you sure you can do this?  I’ve been getting’ the ladies to help with changin’ yer clothes.”  He held up his right hand.  “As God is my witness.”

            She blushed a bit.  “I believe you,” she said.  “All I’m going to do is pull this gown over my head and put the dress back over it.  I’ll be careful, and if there are buttons to be done, you can do it when you get back.  After all I’ve put you through, I don’t think there’s any reason to be overly modest.”

            He smiled sweetly and gave her a kiss on her cheek.  “I want you to feel comfortable.  You still have a ways to go before you’re back 100%, and you need to eat, eat eat!”

            She laughed.  “It’s always food with you!”

            He laughed along with her before getting up and going to the door.  “I won’t be long,” he promised and shut the door behind him.

            Cashie easily pulled the gown over her head.  She thought about changing her camisole and bloomers, but not knowing how quickly the Kid and the sheriff might be back, she didn’t want to take the chance of being embarrassed, so she slipped the dress over her head. 

            She stood up to let it fall around her body.  It was then she noticed how truly thin she was.  The dress hung limply away from her body, easily several inches too large for her waist.  It felt more like a potato sack than the snuggly fitted dress she had first tried on at Mrs. Obermier’s store. 

            After getting over that shock, she tried to lift her arms to button the top buttons around her neck.  Then she realized how weak and atrophied her arms were.  She couldn’t hold them up long enough to even button one.  Exasperated, she sat back on the bed, leaving the dress draped behind her but not secured.  She’d have to enlist Kid’s help for that.

            Soon there was a quick knock on the door.  “Come in,” she called out, realizing her voice was also weak.  The door burst open and there stood not one but now two men with smiles as bright as the moon on a clear night.

            “See, I told ya, Hank,” the Kid said, beaming with joy.

            Sheriff Hank Riley stared as though he couldn’t believe his eyes.  “Well, praise be to Jesus!” he finally cried and came over to grab Cashie up off the bed and squeeze her in a bear hug. 

            When he did, her dress gagged open in the back.  Realizing what he’d done, the old man’s cheeks turned red, and he apologized.  “Sorry, Missy, I didn’t realize…but you just don’t know how glad I am, how happy…”

            He broke down in tears, and suddenly neither one of them cared about the dress or anything else except that she was able to talk and know that he was there, and she knew how much he cared and had worried over her.

            “It’s all right,” she whispered.  “I’m back, and I don’t think I’m going anywhere again.”

            “You better not,” the kindly sheriff whispered back. 

            He let her go, all except her hand, which he squeezed and refused to let go of.  Cashie looked over at the Kid and smiled.  “Can you help?” she asked, trying to keep the dress in place with her other hand.

            “Oh sure,” he said and quickly crawled over the bed to where she was sitting and began fastening buttons from the top down. 

            “My arms were too weak,” she explained, “and the dress just hangs on me.”

            “You’ll soon fill it in once you start eatin’ right,” he replied as he finished up the buttons.  “There,” he said with a grin.

            “You had us mighty worried, Missy,” the sheriff said, his face looking grave as he remembered the worst times.  “But now…now you’ve come back to us.  Don’t ever scare this old man like that again.”

            Cashie gave him a reassuring smile.  “I don’t plan to.  Kid’s told me what happened, most of it anyway.  I…I couldn’t believe it.  I don’t remember anything during that time.”

            “Just as well.  It was not a good time, I’ll tell ya that.  But this one…” he motioned to Kid, who remained beside her on the bed, “he wouldn’t give up on ya.  No matter what anyone said, and two doctors had no idea if or when you’d come around, he’s stuck with ya like glue on paper.  He sure has.”

            Cashie looked over at Kid with an appreciative smile.  “So I’ve been told.”

            He kissed her on the cheek and she reached for his hand, entwining her fingers with his as they’d done many times before the catatonia had taken her away.  The Kid was thankful she hadn’t forgotten that.  He grinned, and they shared a knowing glance.

            Hank Riley let out a sigh.  “I cain’t tell ya how thankful I am to see those eyes of yours doin’ more than just staring at us.  We’d talk to ya until we was blue in the face, or this one did, he tells me, and you’d still be starin’ or fall asleep.  We’ve both missed ya, but none as much as this fella here.”  He patted his deputy on the back.  “I told him he’d be the one to get through to you.”

            The sheriff paused, then he asked, “How _did_ ya do it, Son?”

            Both Cashie and the Kid looked a little embarrassed by the question.  He gave her a questioning look, and she lightly shook her head.

            “Ah…maybe I’ll tell ya later, Hank,” the deputy replied, not wanting to embarrass his wife in front of the old man.

            “Well, whatever it was, I’m glad it worked.  I told ya it would be you, and not that other fella.”

            “What other fella?” Cashie asked in wonder.

            The sheriff quickly realized his mistake.  “Oh, I guess I said too much,” he offered.  “Sorry.”

            Cashie looked to Kid for answers.  “What other fella?” she repeated.

            He looked away for a moment, then back at her.  “There’s more I haven’t had time to fill ya in on.  But I will.  I promise.”

            She was satisfied with the answer.  The sheriff seemed to take that as his cue to leave.  “Well, I’m happier than I’ve been in a mighty long time, Missy.  So good to see you back from wherever the heck ya were.  I sure hope you can stay healthy and get along fine from this point on.  You got a lot of catchin’ up to do, the both of ya.”

            He reached down and gave her another hug, patted his deputy on the arm and then said his good-byes.  Once he was gone, Cashie turned to her husband and asked once more, “What other fella?”

            The Kid let out a deep breath and pulled her to him, his arm around her shoulder as she sat beside him.  It was the way he’d talked to her so many hours over the course of her sickness.

            “All right, all right.  I was gonna tell ya.  I just thought Hank ought to know you were back with us before I told you any more.  And I don’t want to overwhelm ya or anything.  So if I say more than you want to hear…”

            “What other fella?” she yelled at him this time and lightly smacked his arm.

            He laughed.  “There’s my Cashie.  Impatient and givin’ orders.”  He settled down to answer her question.  “The other fella…is Jason Stuart.  Ya happy now?”

            Cashie turned away, looking confused.  The Kid could tell she’d have more questions.

            “Jason?  What’s he got to do with this?”

            Kid looked directly into her eyes.  “He was here, Cash.  He came to see ya.  It was only a little over a week ago, in fact.”

            Cashie’s mouth fell open.  “He was _here_?” 

            “Yes, ma’am.”

            “How?  Why?” she fumbled.

            “Well, now, it seems he heard or read about what happened.  So, he sent me a telegram, wanted to know how you were and if he could come visit.  I thought about it and figured it couldn’t do no harm and maybe he could reach a part of you that I hadn’t been able to reach.  I sent back a telegram tellin’ him you weren’t doin’ good and to let me know when he’d be arrivin’ here.  About a week later I met him at the train station.”

            Cashie looked confused, overwhelmed, but still full of questions.  “You let him come to see me?”

            “Sure, I did.  And let me tell ya, he won’t none too pleased when I told him we were married.  But then I explained things to him, and we kind of, well, made peace and sort of bonded over the whole thing.”

            Now it was Cashie’s turn to let out a breath, reeling over what she was hearing.  “So, he was here.  He saw me like…like…”

            The Kid knew she was feeling embarrassed to think that an old suitor of hers had seen her in the condition she had been in. 

            “He still cares about ya, Cash.  And it broke his heart, just like it broke mine, to see the state you were in.  You didn’t pay no more attention to his bein’ here than you had anything else.  I told him everything, about the doctors, the institution stuff.  He said no way.  We were in perfect agreement about things.  He cried.  I cried.  And then…then he said if I ever needed anything to just let him know and to keep him informed.”

            Cashie shook her head in wonder, absorbing all this information about things she had no recollection of at all.  “I hadn’t thought of him in years, Kid.  I put all that behind me long ago.”  She looked at him.  “You know that, don’t you?”

            He nodded.  “Yeah, I knew.  But he reached out to me, and I was desperate to help ya.  He was sort of my last hope, but nothin happened, so he went back east, and I hadn’t heard from him until…well, until today.”

            “Today?” Cashie asked, an incredulous look on her face.

            “Yeah, this mornin’.  Oh there’s so much more to tell ya, Cash.  Are you sure you’re up for it?  Maybe we should eat some supper first.  It’s been a long day and now that you’re awake, you probably need to get some real food into ya.  Or at least somethin’ like you normally been at.”

            Cashie’s face turned into a suspicious frown.  “Are you tryin’ to distract me, Kid Curry?”

            His face broke into a smile, then he laughed.  “There you are again.  And no, I am _not_ tryin’ to distract you.  I’ll tell ya everything you want to know.  But I really do think we both need to eat somethin’ right now.  I’ve been religious about seein’ to it that you got some nourishment in you.  Both doctors agreed on that.  I guess old habits are hard to break.”

            She was appeased by his answer.  “Fine.  As long as you tell me the rest of it after we eat.  And you will.”

            His smile could not have been any bigger.  “Yes, ma’am,” he said with a mock salute.  “Now you got any preferences for supper?”

            She shook her head.  “I guess if you’ve been feedin’ me for months, you oughta know what I like.  You choose.”

            “Sure,” he said and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before scooting off the bed.  “I’ll be back in a flash.  Is it all right if I tell Becky you’re better?  She’s been worried too, and helpful.”

            Cashie nodded, and then he left.  She sat on the bed wondering what else the Kid had to tell her, especially about Jason Stuart.  She couldn’t get over the fact that he’d come all the way from Baltimore to see her.  Her cheeks flushed at the thought of him being there in that room, her looking such a mess, so different from the times he had courted her in Reno a few years back. 

            It wasn’t that she had actual feelings for him still.  He was a very nice, very sweet memory that she had tucked away once she made her decision that Hannibal was the man she truly loved, and…

            His name brought the sadness back to her mind.  Since she’d “woke up” or “come back” or whatever it was, neither she nor Kid had said his name outright.  But he was there, would always be there.  He was the reason she’d turned down Jason’s proposal and the reason she and Kid…well…she didn’t know about her and Kid.  Where were they?  _What_ were they?  What would they ever be?  Her mind was filled with questions and all sorts of feelings that needed sorting out.  But now wasn’t the time.  She didn’t know when the time would be…

            Her thoughts were interrupted by one of the men in her thoughts bringing in the supper he’d promised. 

            “Fried chicken.  How does that sound?” he cheerfully said.

            “Good,” she replied, looking up at him and shaking all the thoughts from her mind.  “You mean, you got fried chicken in me and I didn’t even know I was in the world?”

            “I just cut it up into little tiny pieces,” he answered.  Take a spoonful, put it to your lips and you’d take it in and chew it up.  ‘Course the first time I put solid food to ya, eggs, it was, I had to _tell_ ya to chew it up and swallow.  But after that, you did just fine.” 

            He sat the plates on the table.  Cashie closed her eyes, trying to imagine the scene he’d described, and shook her head.  It was hard to believe the lengths he had gone to for her.

            “You think you can join me at the table?” he asked, then grinned.  “If not, I can always pick up the spoon and feed ya like I’ve been at.”

            Her face wrinkled up into a pretend frown.  “Oh you!” she fussed and quickly got off the bed and sat in the chair beside him at the table, ready to feed herself like a grown-up.  “I’m not a child.”

            “No, and I never thought of you as a child, but…sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do.  I didn’t have a problem with it, honestly.”

            She thought about what he’d said, her eyes getting misty, and she reached for him, her arms around his neck, holding him tightly.  “Thank you,” she whispered.”

            He smiled but didn’t say anything.  Then she pulled back, uncovered her plate and started to eat.  He couldn’t help but simply watch her.  It had been so long since he’d seen her able to eat normally, on her own, without his help.  He felt another swell of joy inside himself.

            Cashie noticed him looking at her in a peculiar way.  “Are you gonna eat or stare at me?” she quipped, then smiled realizing what a huge step he must see this as. 

            “No,” he protested, holding up his hand.  “I’m gonna eat.  It’s just…so good to have you sittin’ here beside me for a meal.”

            She nodded and then took a bite of her own food.  He turned to his plate and dug in, as well.  They didn’t say much after that, but then they didn’t need to. 

            Cashie ate more than Kid had usually gotten in her.  He was glad to see it but hoped she didn’t eat so much it made her sick.  He knew her body was still adjusting.  She ate all her vegetables and one wing, leaving the drumstick.  He promptly disposed of that once she made it clear she was done. 

            Then he cleaned up the dishes, deciding to take them back to the restaurant in the morning.  He helped Cashie get back to the bed and they sat beside each other as before, their legs stretched out before them, his arm around her.  He didn’t have long to wait before she started in with the questions once more.

            “All right, now we’ve had our supper.  I’m feeling fine.  Tell me the rest of it.”

            He couldn’t help teasing her.  “Tell you what?”

            “You know.  Whatever it was Jason sent another telegram about.  You said it was today.  So out with it.”

            “Bossy, sassy woman,” he teased with a smile then pulled her closer and kissed the top of her head.  “Just be patient, will ya?  I’m gettin’ to it. 

            Cashie looked up at him and smiled back.  She felt safe and warm and trusting beside him, like the world was finally right side up once more.

            Kid looked away and then began telling her about the second telegram where Jason said he’d sent him some money.

            “So here I go into the Martinsburg Bank feelin’ about as anxious as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rockin’ chairs.  I give the teller the telegram, and next thing I know here comes the bank manager introducin’ himself, shakin’ my hand and wantin’ me to step into his office.  Well, I didn’t know what to think.”

            Cashie’s face was serious as she listened to his story.  “What did he want?”

            “He told me to sit down, and then I asked him what was this all about.  He said that Jason had mailed him some documents and told him to open an account in my name.  I had no clue about any of this and told him so.  He kept smilin’ this big smile, and I didn’t know why until he handed me these papers and I looked them over.  They didn’t make much sense to me, except for one thing.”

            He definitely had her attention.  “What was it, Kid?”

            “The amount, Cashie.  The amount.  I nearly fell outta my chair.”

            “Well, tell me!” she implored.  “How much did he send?”

            He turned so he could look directly in her eyes when he said the words.  “Twenty-five thousand dollars.”

            Cashie’s eyes also grew big, and she took this deep sudden breath and held it a good while before blowing it out.  “No!” was all she could say.

            The Kid grinned.  “Yeah, I had that same look.  I did.” 

            Cashie looked away in disbelief.  When she finally got her bearings, she asked, “Why?  Why would he send you that much money?”

            Kid got kind of serious then.  “Mostly for you.  He sent a letter explainin’ along with the papers.”  He pulled the envelope out and handed it to her.

            Cashie took the envelope in her hands and read the handwriting on the outside.  Then she opened it up and took out the letter.  The Kid turned up the lamp so she could see it better.  She read the letter slowly, then reread it to be sure she understood every word.  Then she looked up in the Kid’s eyes, hers filled with surprise and confusion.

            “I can’t believe this, Kid.  I never thought I’d ever even see Jason again, and now he’s giving us $25,000?  I…I don’t know how I feel about this.”

            “Can’t say that I do either.  I talked to Hank about it, let him read the letter.  I hope you don’t mind.”

            “Of course not.  What did he say?”

            “He thinks Jason is a good man, that he cares about you, and he’s entrusted me to take care of you.  He thought it was a gift of love…to both of us.  And he thought the amount was mighty strange, it being the exact amount we had on our heads before the amnesty.”

            Cashie looked away and tried to get her bearings on this latest development in her complicated life.  She shook her head.

            “He sends all this money for you to take care of me, and now…now I’ve woke up.  I’m better.  What are we supposed to do with all this money now, Kid?”  She looked up to him for answers.

            But he shook his head, too.  “I don’t know.  Everything happened so fast.  It’s been a long day, Cash.  A wonderful day, a surprising day.  But honestly, I don’t have an answer for ya.  All I know is that tomorrow I should send the man a telegram and let him know you came out of your sickness and maybe ask him about the money, even offer to send it back to him.  What do ya think about that?”

            She sighed.  “I don’t know either.  I could never in a million years have thought anything like this, any of it, could happen.  Could you?”  She looked up at him once more.

            He laughed.  “No way.  Bein’ given $25,000 and then you wakin’ up.  It’s like a dream come true.  I ain’t complainin’ one bit.”

            Cashie decided she might as well laugh too.  She turned around to face Kid and put her arms around him.  “I guess we’ll figure it out together,” she said, laying her head upon his chest. 

            He held her close and was surprised when a yawn overtook him.  “You got any more questions or shall we call it a night?”

            “No more questions, at least for now.  I’m tired.”

            He looked down at her face and could tell she was.  “It’s been a big day for both of us,” he whispered.  She nodded.  “You need to rest now.  Are you gonna sleep in the dress or you want your gown?”

            “The dress is fine.”  She yawned, and he let her go so she could turn down the covers.  Once she was comfortable, he said, “Give me just a minute and I’ll join ya.”

            She nodded, her eyes already closed.  He got undressed down to his long handles, blew out the lamp and settled in beside her.  He cuddled with her, as he’d done throughout her sickness, and she seemed content. He thought maybe it was instinctual.  It didn’t matter either way.

            For once, all was right with the world, and sleep soon overtook them.


End file.
